


Kissing You

by InspiredWriter_09



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bartender Lexa, Explicit Language, F/F, Flirting, Minor Violence, Possible smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9126100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InspiredWriter_09/pseuds/InspiredWriter_09
Summary: A chance encounter in a dank alleyway in Polis leaves Lexa fully entranced with the finer things in life, Clarke Griffin.Kind of a Romeo and Juliet meets Cinderella smashed into the atmosphere similar to the Outsiders.Two-shot with the possibility of a continuation.





	1. Chapter 1

“Will you stop your bitching already?”

With an eye roll, the tall brunette replies; “I wouldn’t be complaining if you didn’t force your employees to wear these ridiculous outfits.”

Glancing around, green eyes oversee one of the employees moving around pool sticks hanging upon the wall in the corner. As she approaches the bar, slim fingers begin to tug at the knot of the skinny, black tie, which is snug under the white collar of a crisp dress shirt. 

Stopping in front of the dirty-blonde, she snarls, “I’m a fucking bartender, not a maître d.”

“Yes, that may be true. But, the last time I checked, this is my fucking bar and you are my employee.” Anya replies with a glare, “which means, you wear whatever ridiculous outfit I tell you, including a clown suit with big red fucking shoes and a honker the size of a grapefruit.”

“Why can’t it be something a little less formal?” The bartender grunts, “we’re a dive bar, not a nightclub.” 

“Once again,” the blonde-haired women growls, “because I own this bar and what I say goes. Now, get your shit together. We are opening soon and I don’t need your scowl scaring off any of my customers.”

With a scoff, the employee turns on her heels to disappear into the back. Huffing down the narrow corridor towards the back exit, hastily, hands shove the ends of the crisp white dress shirt into tight, black skinny jeans as she mumbles expletives. 

“Oh Lex,” Anya calls out, “don’t forget, remember to be your extra gay self.”

Without glancing back, a tan hand lifts up to flip off the other girl. 

“And Lex, I don’t mind if you make an attempt at getting laid. Maybe that will help you remove that large pole jammed up your ass.” 

“Fuck you Anya,” the girl throws over her shoulder as her palms slam into the metal bar to push the heavy door open. The metal rattles loudly into the stillness of the night as the bartender walks out into the alleyway. With a strong, cool breeze hitting her warm cheeks, she finally feels like she can breathe. Nimble fingers slip into the back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter.

“This is going to be a long night.” 

Pressing her heel of a black boot to the wall, the lean body relaxes against the brick while placing the cigarette between plump lips. A tan hand cups the space near the end of the stick while the other flicks the lighter for a flame. Inhaling, green eyes flutter close as the nicotine courses through her veins. Thank god. Willing the muscles to relax, shoulders roll forward to release some tension.

“Fuck you Finn.”

A slight jerk of muscles occurs in surprise as the shout pierces the quietness of the poorly lit alleyway. Lolling her head to the side of the entrance, two figures stand there with almost a foot between them. Lover’s Quarrel, perhaps? Squinting slightly, Lexa tries to see who has interrupted the only peace she will have for the night. 

“Clarke, babe, you are overreacting.”

One of the figures, Clarke, Lexa assumes, throws her hands up in the air in disbelief. The other one, Finn, seems to move towards her with arms stretched out to calm the distress girl. 

“Overreacting? I’m overreacting?” she shouts, “you are the one who has girls texting you naked pictures and I’m overreacting.”

Lexa feels her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. This is better than that trashy reality television. Slim fingers raised up to plump lips once again for another drag. A slight breeze flutters by causing the bartender to shiver slightly. 

“Look, babe, I love you.” The grimy fucker places his hands upon her shoulders, “you know I would never cheat on you. These women, there, there just clients. It’s just business.” 

A light scoff falls from the bartender’s lips at the poor excuse. Can someone say bull shit? A quiet moment passes between the two as the girl rubs her forehead in contemplation.

“I’m sorry, ok? But, we have to get to the benefit.” Finn hugs Clarke, “we will talk about this when I get back from my trip.”

Another scoff. Of course, a business trip. Shaking her head, plump lips wrap around the lit stick for another inhale. 

“Finn, stop,” the girl growls shoving the boy back. “Maybe I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to continue this vicious cycle of bull shit that involves you groveling and me forgiving you like a fool thinking this time would be different?” 

He moves closer as the girl moves back into the streetlight. Lexa feels her cheeks warm as the illuminating glow catches the golden wavy hair and porcelain skin. Green eyes slither down the length of the women’s curvaceous body clad in a simple, mid-thigh length black dress. Lexa’s lustful gaze lingers a little too long at the plunging neckline accentuating the supple cleavage of the girl. Jesus Christ.

“Clarke, I, I don’t know what you want me to say.” Finn explains as he appears behind her, “I, I have a problem.”

“A problem?”

“Yes,” he nods straightening his blazer. “I obviously am a sex addict.” 

With another drag, Lexa finds herself shaking her head in disbelief while swallowing a bubble of laughter trying to escape from her lips. 

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you Finn.” 

“I am serious.” Finn pulls her close, “I have a problem. I’ll seek counseling. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t leave me Clarke. We, we are supposed to get married, start a family, and grow old together. Remember what we used to say in high school?”

A soft sigh, “forever and always.”

“Exactly, none of those girls mean anything. You are the only one that matters.” 

Lexa rolls her eyes once more, oh fucking please.

“I-I don’t know.” 

The blazer wearing boy pushes the blonde against the wall before pinning her hands above her head. A strong urge to vomit rises to the surface of the brunette’s esophagus as he forces himself upon the girl. 

“Finn, stop.”

“I love you.”

“Finn.”

“Don’t leave me.” 

Alarmingly, the brunette pushes herself off the wall, ready to walk over there. Except, a loud scream erupts as a pale knee swiftly jerks up to knee Finn’s crotch. Watching with a smirk, Lexa sees him stumble back holding his junk while howling in pain. Well, well, well, that was rather unexpected. Pale hands move to push down the hem of her dress that had hiked up.

“What the fuck Clarke?” 

A click of a tongue, “I told you to stop. Newsflash, your usual game of throwing me off using sex is not going to work this time.” She pauses, “I need time to think. Just, go home, I’ll attend the party with Octavia.”

“But what about your mother? She wants me there!”

“My mom can’t stand you,” Clarke snaps back.

Lexa’s smile widens as the blonde fights back. Fiesty. 

Finn gasps in offensive, “she loves me!”

“I’m so not having this discussion right now. Goodnight Finn.”

As the blonde goes to walk away, Finn grabs her arm and roughly shoves back Clarke against the wall, “you don’t tell me what to do remember?” 

“If you lay one finger on me, you can kiss your career in politics goodbye.”

A frustrated growl fills the air as the boy punches the wall, “fine, do whatever the fuck you want Clarke. Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care. I’m done with this.”

Leaning back against the wall, the heel of her boot digging into the brick wall as a knee bends to relax once more. Green eyes follow the seething boy’s retreating silhouette until he disappears around the corner. Well, that was rather anticlimactic. Taking another drag of her cigarette, the blonde stands there silently with her eyes glued to the ground. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” 

Shoulders tense up before relaxing, “well, it had romance, scandal, violence, and drama. I would be a fool not to say that I wasn’t mildly entertained.” She continues, “the knee to the groin had to be my favorite part.”

Green eyes continue to stare down the alleyway as the clicking of heels start to become louder as the girl approaches. A sweet scent of vanilla envelops the brunette’s senses. 

“Although, I must admit, I think the ending could have had little more of a dramatic flair,” Lexa teases with a smirk. 

“Oh yeh? I’ll try to remember that for next time.” Clarke replies with a playful smile. 

Turning her head, emerald eyes lock with the bluest of blues. Oh my. Immediately, the palms of tan hands become warm and sweaty. The light cerulean with a small crinkle at the corners seem to be so inviting, so playful. 

“Mind sparing one?” 

An eyebrow raises as she moves to grab her pack, “didn’t peg you for a smoker.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.” 

Nimble fingers pluck out a stick before offering, “oh, a show and a lesson! What a treat for me tonight.” 

“You also get to have a meet and greet with one of its leading ladies. My, my aren’t you a lucky one.” 

A tan thumb rolls over the lighter to ignite it, “considering the sheer beauty of the main star, I would say this is definitely a one in a million chance.” 

“Hm, charmer.”

Continuing to gaze at one another, green eyes falter as pink lips move to wrap around the bud of the cigarette. Licking her own plump lips, the brunette’s eyes glide down the cute cleft of the chin before landing upon the ample cleavage on display.

“My eyes are up here sweetheart,” Clarke teases after releasing the lit stick. 

A small quirk of plump lips at that remark, “sorry, I hope you don’t fault me for being distracted by such sheer perfection.”

The blonde lets out small laugh causing the small smile to widen at the infectious sound. A pale hand moves to brush the blonde tresses over a bare shoulder, effectively exposing the expanse of smooth skin. Emerald eyes flicker down to trail up the curve of the neck. Soft, inviting skin tempts the brunette as her lips begin to tingle in a strong urge to caress, kiss, and bite on the smooth surface. 

“Tell me, do those lines usually work on girls?” 

“In theory.”

“Hm,” Clarke takes another drag. 

Blue eyes continue to gaze at the bartender with a curious glint in her eyes. Tan hands stuff into the pockets of jeans, emerald eyes flicker down to the dirty cement littered with trash and old gum. 

“Lexa, where the fuc- oh hi.” 

Turning her head, Lexa feels her cheeks redden at the interrogating gaze inflicted upon her by the older girl. Clarke tilts her head curiously before throwing a shy wave in response. 

“Is there something you need Anya?” 

Anya glances back, “yes my employee to stop flirting with pretty girls and get back to work.” 

Clarke snickers slightly as the brunette’s cheeks redden even more at the implication. The shit eating grin gracing the dirty-blonde haired women widens at the sight of pure embarrassment. Fucking bitch. Pushing off the wall, long legs make their way over; but, not before cool fingers wrap around her wrist to stop her movements.

“Anya, do you think I could have another minute with your employee?” Clarke asks sweetly, “it will be quick, I promise.” 

With a curt nod, the girl disappears once more leaving the two alone in the dimly lit alleyway. A soft tug at her arm has Lexa turning her head slightly to face the blonde, not realizing the close proximity. After the blonde moves closer, the outer part of the brunette’s bicep is now pressed between the valley of the blonde’s breasts. Jesus. A sharp intake of breath falls from her lips when a soft, cool hand cups her hot cheek as Clarke proceeds to guide Lexa’s face towards her. 

“Clarke.” 

A soft whisper as emerald eyes flicker down to pink lips a few inches away. The cool thumb begins to gently glide back and forth across the high cheekbone. A ghost of a cocky grin graces the blonde’s lips as a gleam of playfulness twinkles behind cerulean blue. 

“Lexa.” 

The bartender swallows thickly at the husky, low voice saying her name. A shiver runs down the bartender’s spine at the mere thought of hearing that same voice panting, whimpering, withering underneath her begging for more.

“As you probably overheard, I am off to a party,” Clarke whispers, trailing the pads of her fingers across the chiseled jawline. Emerald eyes continue to flicker between blue and pink as blue eyes run over every inch of the brunette’s face, scanning, memorizing.

“Too bad you have to work,” she continues. “But, if you happen to get off early, you should stop by for a drink.” 

Fingertips glide down from a chiseled jawline to the curve of the tan neck to slide behind it. Tickling the soft hairs at the base of Lexa’s neck, Clarke draws her closer to lean their foreheads together. Twisting her lean body, the brunette moves to directly press against the busty body, chest to chest, hip to hip.

“How would I find you?” 

A smirk graces those pink lips, “I have no doubt that you won’t have trouble finding me. It is one of the biggest parties of the year.”

The grip of the pale hand loosens to slide down the neck towards the middle of the brunette’s chest, tickling the taller girl slightly. Roughly grabbing onto the tie, Clarke tugs gently. Leaning forward, pink lips press against the corner of the bartender’s plump lips. Oh. A feather kiss that was so light, so soft, Lexa was not sure that she felt it. Yet, before plump lips could react, the radiating warmth of Clarke’s body was gone. A light chill ran up her spine when the cool air hit her once more. 

“May we meet again, Lexa.”

Eyelashes flutter open to see a playful smirk gracing the beautiful features of Clarke as the girl backpedals down the alleyway. The clicking of heel echoing into the still night, breaking the brunette from her enchantment. Don’t go. Hastily, Lexa shouts with an arm raised to stop the blonde from leaving. 

“Wait, I didn’t get your last name!” 

Clarke stops at the end of the alleyway with a knowing smirk. A playful wink is thrown at the desperate bartender. With a seductive swing in her hips, the blonde calls out, “it’s Griffin.”  
Lexa’s gaze stays on the back of the blonde tresses until she disappears; a soft whisper escapes the plump lips, falling into the dark night. 

“May we meet again, Clarke Griffin.”


	2. Come with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa makes the decision to find mysterious women, which leads her down an interesting path.
> 
> A/N: I listened to the Kissing You on the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack on replay. Just in case any of you would like to listen to the song while reading, especially towards the end.

“And she said what?!”

Lexa rolls her eyes as the dishrag in her hand polishes the glass. “But, if you happen to get off early, you should stop by for a drink.” 

Anya, cousin and boss, stares at her wide-eyed in disbelief with her hands on her lips. To her left, Lincoln, her other cousin, laughs as his hand rubs the surface of the bar with a rag in circular motion. Naturally, after the bartender walked in from her rather strange encounter, question after question hit her like a brick wall. 

“Well, what the fuck are you doing here still?”

Green eyes flicker up shocked, “excuse me?”

“I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” Anya almost shouts, “drop the rag, get on your bike and ride your ass to that party.” 

“Um, you need me, remember?” Lexa reminds her, “I work here.” 

“Not tonight.”

“Anya!” Lexa warns firmly. 

The dirty-haired blonde grabs the dishrag as the other girl leaned to grab another glass. Here we go. With an eye roll and huff, Lexa leans against the cabinet, awaiting a lecture.

“You just had a hot girl ask you out.” 

Lincoln pipes in, “not just any girl, Clarke Griffin.”

After a moment of silence, Anya and Lexa glance over at the burly man in a tight, white collar shirt who continues to wipe the counter down. Oblivious to the looks he is receiving, Lincoln continues the task at hand. 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” 

Freezing, he glances up to see green eyes throwing jealous daggers at him. With a click of the tongue, the man responds calmly, “it means, Clarke Griffin is the daughter of Abby Griffin.”

“Oh shit.” 

Glancing back and forth, the bartender’s face contorts into a confused expression, “who is Abby Griffin?”

A sigh, “she is one of the biggest surgeons out there.” 

“Yeah, like she is famous for curing cancer or some shit,” Anya continues. “Abby Griffin, the wife of Jake Griffin the politician who is about to buy half of Polis to rebuild it, holds an annual fundraiser for research.”

“Celebrities, politicians, everyone who is important will be at that party,” Lincoln replies smiling. 

“I heard, one year, Angelina Jolie actually attended the benefit and tried to adopt another baby.” 

Lexa stares at both of them with a blank look. “Is there a point to this conversation right now?”

“Yes, Clarke Griffin obviously wants to be your Sugar Mama and your broke ass should take the deal. All you would have to do is give her head, which I think you can handle considering the amount of saliva dripping down your chin at her exposed chesticles.” Anya replies sarcastically. “I think the phrase is, you volunteer as tribute.” 

With a glare, a tan hand roughly shoves her cousin, “first, shut up. Second, I wasn’t drooling. Yes, she is stunning, I won’t lie. But, clearly, after the conversation I overheard, she is looking for an affair rather than a relationship because, oh that’s right, she still is in one with a floppy-haired ape named Finn.” 

“Except, by the sounds of it, the once perfect relationship seems to be on its last leg. So, your ass should slither in, seduce her, make her fall in love with you, marry her, and then give me a loan.” 

Lincoln laughs at that while green eyes of the bartender flicker up towards the sky. Silently praying for patience, Lexa closes her eyes as Anya continues. 

“Plus,” the dirty-haired owner explains, “maybe she just wants to hook up. What the big deal? She gets a nice orgasm while you get it in with the one of the rich bitches of Arkadia.”

“Clarke Griffin is not someone you just hook up with Anya,” Lincoln chides. 

Lexa scoffs, “sounds to me like Princess is slumming it down here.” 

“Excuse me, bitch. But, this fine establishment is one hundred perce-“

“A dive-bar for the lowlifes of Polis,” the bartender teases smirking. 

A white rag goes flying in the air as it hits the girl in the face. “Watch your mouth or I will fire you.”

“Pfft, I’ll tell Indra.”

Anya growls, “tattle-tale.” 

“You love me,” Lexa sings grinning.

Leaning against the cabinet next to her cousin, Anya throws her arm over the girl’s shoulder. With a sigh, the younger cousin shifts her waiting side to side, almost nervously. 

“Look, when have I ever steered you wrong?” 

Green eyes flicker over to cousin, “are we talking about this past month or since I was born?” 

Thwack! Wincing slightly at the dull throb coming from the back of her head, Lexa elbows her cousin in the ribs after the smack. Anya, quickly, curls the arm still around the bartender’s toned shoulders and squeezes around the slim neck. Scrambling, tan hands grabs at the older girl’s slim waist as the tightening of the chokehold increases.

“Let me go.”

Anya clicks her tongue, “nope, not until you say you are sorry and I am the best cousin ever.” 

“Fuck you.” Lexa sneers defiantly. 

Struggling in the hold, Lincoln leans his elbows against the smooth surface to watch the scuffle with a disapproving look etched on handsome features. Moving in a circle, the two girls continue to dance. Making attempts to escape the hold, tan hands continue to try to shove the owner by the waist. 

“Say it Lexa.”

“Never.” 

Smirking, Lexa lifts her left boot then slams it down on an unsuspecting open-toed stiletto. Immediately, the hold around the slim neck loosens as a string of curses falls out of Anya’s mouth when the pain settles in. Hopping on one leg, the owner attempts to grab the throbbing foot to rub it. With a light shove, Lexa frees herself with a triumphant smirk, which is short-lived when a lime hits her straight in the forehead.  
“I hate you so much,” the bartender mutters rubbing the smooth forehead. 

Anya, rubbing her foot, mumbles, “the feeling is mutual asshole.” 

“Are you two children done?”

Lincoln questions as chocolate eyes glance back and forth between the two. “Now, Anya, if Lexa doesn’t want to go that is her choice, not yours. And Lex,” his voice softens laced with compassion, “if you are not ready then that’s fine as well.” 

Lowering her gaze, green eyes find the lime on the floor very interesting at this very moment. 

“You should get under someone else to get over someone.”

A frustrated huff, “fine! Let’s say I would like to go see her. I don’t even know where this party is being held.”

“Oh that’s easy,” Lincoln chimes grinning. “It’s at their estate.”

“Estate?” Lexa mumbles with wide eyes. 

He nods excitedly, “yep, huge ass mansion.” 

“Fuck.”

With a tired expression, green eyes flicker between the two cousins in contemplation. 

“But, but-” 

Anya sighs exasperated while rubbing her temples; “Lexa, don’t you want to see her again?”

“Maybe.”

“Lexa.”

“Fine, okay, yes. I am intrigued.”

“Intrigued meaning horny.”

“Anya.” 

‘Lexa.” 

With a smirk, Anya continues, “if you want to see her, go take up the damn invitation. Stop with the excuses! We will survive without you for one night.”

“Yeh, go be her Prince Charming in a leather jacket on a motorbike,” Lincoln teases.

Anya continues, “more like Commander Charming.” 

“Please stop.” 

Lincoln grins before replying, “she’s been dreaming of a true love’s kiss.” 

“Don’t you dare start.” 

“And a princess she’s hoping comes with this,” Anya sings along as Lexa throws straws.

“Alright, stop, I’m going,” the bartender shouts throwing her arms up in the air. “You sang me into submission, I hope you both are happy knowing you peer pressured your own flesh and blood.” 

“And yet, I’ll sleep like a baby tonight,” Anya chimes with a grin. 

With a loud huff, the bartender moves to grab her leather jacket from under the bar. Swinging it over her head to put it on, Lexa glares at both of her cousins. 

“I cannot believe I am doing this.” 

Anya shrugs, “you will thank us in the long run.” 

“Should I bring something?”

Lincoln grins, “besides a slice of your sexy self, nope. Go have fun, Lex. You deserve it.”

Tan hands clutch the black motorcycle helmet while a plump lip remains trapped between pearly white teeth. Staring, anxiously, at her cousins, Lexa can feel herself heating up already. 

“Look if you’re really nervous, why don’t you drag Raven with you?” Lincoln suggests while gesturing over to the approaching girl. 

“Bitches, I need drink,” Raven sighs out as a hand slaps down against the surface with cash. Anya shakes her head. 

“You will get your drink, but not here.” 

Raven’s head snaps up, “are you breaking up with me?” 

Green eyes roll at that question, “no, you need to go to a party with Lexa. She got asked out by hot ass Clarke Griffin.”

“Clarke was here?”

All three cousins gape at the mechanic who sat up with a confused expression. In unison, “you know Clarke Griffin?” 

“Uh, yeh, she brings her car to my shop all the time. We’ve actually hung out a couple times.” Raven responds with a nonchalant shrug, as if this was a normal occurrence; “she is good people.”

“See Lexa, good people,” Anya says shoving her cousin towards the exit. “Now go mingle with good people. Babe, take care of my cousin.”

“I will.”

"And make sure she actually talks to Clarke instead of walking around, panicking, over-analyzing, or drooling.”

A kiss, “yep, got it. Make sure your socially-awkward, anal, uptight Commander actually is attractive and likeable.”

“You two are aware I am still standing here right?” Green-stony eyes harden to glare at the two. 

“Shut up, now shoo.” Anya pushes them out the door, “Lexa, careful with my girl’s leg.” 

With a mumble and flick of her wrist, the bartender trudges over to her black motorbike with Raven trailing behind. The mechanic throws an arm over the girl’s tense shoulders while shouting enthusiastically.

“This is going to be fun.”

Oh that’s a load of horse shit. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Thankfully, yet much to Lexa’s dismay, Raven knew the exact location of the Griffin’s estate. After riding back to the mechanic’s apartment for her to change into a sexy red dress, Lexa followed Raven on her bike while the other girl drove. Why do I let Anya push me into doing these crazy things? A leather clad glove revs the engine as she awaits red to turn green. Here she was, riding to a stranger’s home on a whim of fantasy that this girl may actually be interested in her. 

Leaning into the left turn emerald eyes widen slightly behind the tinted shield at the view. This neighborhood would be a place where her and the kids of Polis would dream of living after making it big or winning the damn lottery. One after the other, houses, no, mansions sit behind their high black gates and brick walls. With their perfectly green manicured lawns and bushes, each home probably had a pool in the backyard accompanied by a slide. Fucking rich snobs. At the end of the road is a cul-de-sac, there was only one house in the area, the Griffin Estate. Similar to the other homes, a black gate encircles the mansion to keep unwanted visitors out. Yet, it remains wide open, inviting all to come in tonight. 

Following Raven inside, Lexa feels her heartrate pick up as they slow down to a park. Of course valet parking. Pulling up behind Raven’s stopped car, the bartender takes in the stone walls with it’s green, manicured grass and perfectly trimmed hedges. Fuck me. Thousands of lights glowed inside that shone bright through the thousands of windows. Pulling off the helmet, a soft beat drifts throughout the air. The bartender swings her leg off the bike when the valet approaches. A boy with goggles eyes light up upon glancing at the bike. Before handing over the keys, a tan hand grabs the navy blue vest roughly to pull him in closer.

“You damage my bike, I will break your neck. Got it?”

The boy nods frightened, “yes ma’am.”

Pushing him away, she eyes the nametag. “Good, here you go, Jasper.” 

Quickly handing her a ticket, the boy moves towards the bike. Green eyes flicker over to the home with a doorman standing in front of it. Awaiting the next visitor, he stands still with no expression on his face. Tugging at the tie, Lexa swallows thickly. 

“Don’t you dare get cold feet Commander.”

A sigh, “I’m not. I just, I don’t know anything about this girl. And yet, here I am, about to make a fool of myself.” 

“Look,” Rae tugs the girl forward to walk, “it’s all good. Clarke, she, she is a really great person. In no way is she like the rest of the snobs that live around here. Yeah she has money but, she doesn’t act like she is better than anyone.” 

Allowing Raven to pull her towards the entrance, the slapping of her feet hitting the cement of stairs rings loudly as the doorman increases in size. Gulping, her sweat glands already beginning to work over time. 

“Clarke is also in a really shitty relationship.” Raven continues, “she needs someone like you.”

“Me?” Lexa scoffs, “I’m nothing. I have nothing to offer her.”

“That’s not true.”

“Raven, the girl has everything. I am pretty sure she should be arranged to be married by now.” The bartender explains, “I highly doubt I can give her what she wants.” 

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe she doesn’t want that? Maybe she just wants someone to see her, treat her like a person, not someone with money.” 

Before they reached the door, the mechanic smooths a piece of hair sticking out from the bartender’s braid. With a softness in her eyes, “Lex, you have a lot more to offer than you know. You’re loyal, kind, hardworking, and amazing. Who wouldn’t want to be with someone like you?”

Lexa feels the tension in her jaw slack as a small smile graces her lips, “thanks Rae.”

“Anytime. Now,” hands move to straighten out the tie, “girl the hell up cause mama needs something really strong.”

A soft chuckle escapes the other girl’s lips as Lexa is dragged inside. Nodding at the doorman in gratitude, the girl feels her head spin at the sight. Once inside a grand staircase on each side connect at the very top. High ceilings, with a beautiful, golden chandelier, Lexa can’t help but gape at the sight. It was lavish. It was so posh. All it needed was the golden cherubs painted across the ceiling. A man approaches asking for their jackets; handing over her jacket as well as the helmet, Lexa feels herself become jittery. Anxiously, nimble fingers flex and curl into a fist repeatedly. 

“Come on, the benefit is outside.” 

Raven pulls the arm as the other girl stumbles a few feet behind. Her head lolling side to side to look at the beautiful home and its aesthetics. She is pretty sure half of the artwork are original pieces that cost more than her damn future. As they head outside onto a balcony, Raven lets go of the strong grip on her arm to grab two glasses of champagne from a waitress’s tray. Taking the glass, green eyes watch the liquid swirl and bubble before bringing it up to her lips. 

“Not strong enough,” Rae mumbles.

Lexa swallows, lowering her glass. “You are driving.”

“Shhhh, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Shaking her head, long legs descend down the steps once more into the loud chatter of a group. Outside clusters of circular tables covered by white cloth are around the yard. On top of them, you could find silver candelabras lit with long white tapestry candles. In the middle, the pool is filled with candles floating on lily pads of white, silver, and grey. A quartet is playing a soft melody while the DJ continues to talk to the guests and taking their requests. In the far back of this never ending backyard is a bouncy house as well as other games and attractions to keep the children occupied while the adults talk business. Flashes of lights catches Lexa’s attention in the corner; a group of people were having their pictures taken by the professional photographer. 

“That’s Jake Griffin on the left,” Raven whispered quietly. 

Dressed in a suit with a grey tie, Jake Griffin stands proudly with a grin. His dirty-blonde hair sleeked back by gel, allowing his light blue, almost grey, eyes to shine brightly. Perfect hair, perfect smile, he would have Aphrodite be charmed by such handsome features.  
“Which means Abby should be running around here somewhere,” she continues. “Jake is really sweet and welcoming unlike his wife who can wear her judgements like a glove.”

“Oh joy,” Lexa mumbles as eyes glance around at all the suits and ties mingling around. Taking another sip of her champagne, she feels Raven tug her over to the side. 

“We should probably not try to draw in any unwanted attention.” 

The bartender scoffs, “I’m waiting for one of these snobs to mistake me for the help and ask for another damn drink or a slice of dessert.”

Raven snorts, “Oh that would be hilarious.” 

Before Lexa could get another word in, a soft clinking of glasses forces her to shut up as Jake stands on the steps by himself.

“Okay, okay, settle down you whippersnappers.” 

A murmur of laughter pierces the night as he continues. “Seriously, on the behalf of my lovely wife, wait Abby, get up here.” 

A woman in a white gown strolls up the steps before turning to face the audience. Golden blonde hair, blue eyes, Clarke is a little clone of her mother. Biting her lip, Lexa feels an elbow dig into her side.

“Clarke’s mom is hot, eh?” 

Ignoring that comment, a tan hand moves to wipe the sweaty palm against her jeans. “Now, where was I? Oh, right, on the behalf of my lovely wife, I would like to thank you for attending another successful benefit. We were able to collect donations for almost one million dollars.” A chorus of applauses and murmurs increase. “Yes, give yourselves all a hand. Although, I am pretty sure half of you aren’t as amused since you will be going home with lighter wallets.” 

“Anyway, this benefit, like previous years, has been very special to our family. It is an everlasting legacy to the Griffin Foundation. I hope and encourage all of you to continue to donate to research or charities. There are plenty of people out there who aren’t as fortunate as we all are.”

You’re telling me. Lexa thinks as she takes another small sip of champagne. 

“So, drink, eat, and be merry!” 

After round of applause, Jake and Abbey step down with smiles on their faces. Flash after flash, Lexa looks around to see the real reason she has decided to show up. 

“Raven!”

Curiously, green eyes flicker back towards the voice to see Jake Griffin making his way over with a huge grin on his face. Opening his arms, the mechanic moves into hug the older man. 

“Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in forever.” 

The girl smiles, “been working down at the shop overtime. You know, those bills aren’t going to pay themselves.” 

“That’s for sure,” he says with a hearty laugh. “Clarke didn’t tell us you were coming!”

“That’s because you and Mom are too busy kissing ass.”

A low, husky voice from behind Lexa causes her body to hum, to vibrate in excitement. She knows that pitch. A light pressure placed on the bartender’s lower back creates a fireball of tingles to shoot up her spine. Remaining on her back, Lexa feels a warm body press against her side, “Lexa.” It was a faint whisper that shatters the brunette to the core. Turning her head, blue eyes seems to grin at her while a small playful, yet seductive smirk graces those pink lips. 

“Well, you know now how we opened your college fund,” Jake joked with his arm around Raven’s shoulder.

Clarke breaks her gaze to give her father a sweet smile, “I thought that was you pimping Mom out?”

Another laugh, “yes, well don’t tell her that or she will have my head.” 

Moving his gaze to Lexa, the bartender grips her glasses tighter under his gaze. Oh god. With a warm smile, a large hand juts out in front of her.

“I don’t think we have ever met. I’m Jake, this basket case’s father.”

Subtly wiping her hand against her jeans, a tan hand wraps around the pale one with a firm shake and a head nod. “I’m Lexa Woods, sir. You have a very lovely home.” 

“Oh, why thank you, Lexa Woods. So tell me, how do you know my daughter?” 

“Dad,” Clarke half whines, “don’t start interrogating my guests.”

“Ooh, guests?” he wiggles his eyebrows. “I see, well, it looks like I’m interrupting this first date.”

“Dad.”

Hugging Raven, Jake grins, “Okay, okay, I’ll be going. I should be mingling more before your mother yells at me again. Raven don’t be a stranger.” Turning to Lexa once more, he sticks out his hand. “It was very nice to meet you Lexa.”

“You too, sir.” She stammers shaking his hand once more. 

“Clarke, behave.”

A click of her tongue, “I always do, Dad.” 

“Uh- huh. Have fun girls.” 

Licking her now dry lips, the bartender lets her eyes travel back over to the girl standing beside her. Instead of the black dress, Clarke is in a white gown. Gorgeous. Once again, with a plunging neckline to accentuate the well-endowed chest, the white, silky material hugs every curve of the luscious body. Emerald eyes slither down, noting that the hem of the dress touches the floor. And when Clarke shifts, Lexa feels a rush of heat hit. This gown had a very high slit, allowing her to see the expanse of smooth skin. Fuck. The bartender can already picture pinning the blonde against a tree, kissing her neck and running her fingertips up and down the supple flesh of the outer thigh.

“Raven, you know Lexa?”

She nods, “yep, I’m dating this one’s older cousin.” 

“What a small world,” Clarke states grinning. “Octavia is here if you want to say hi. She is over at the bouncy castle with the gang.”

“Sweet,” Raven replies, “I’ll see you in a bit Lex. I bet Princess over here can keep you company.”

And with a wink, the mechanic disappears into the sea of people, leaving the two girls alone. Taking a deep breath, the smell of vanilla hits her senses. A tickling deep in her belly at the fluttering of wings takes Lexa by surprise when the hand on her back moves higher then lower. Rubbing affectionately, gently, emerald eyes dare to take a peek over at the other girl who was already shamelessly staring. Blue eyes shining with excitement, happiness, and a hint of curiosity.

“You came.” 

“You did invite me, right?” Lexa nervously jokes, “or was that me having a stroke?” 

Tugging out a cigarette, she places it on her lips.

“I did. I’m surprised you showed up.” Pale fingers grab the lighter from tan ones, “I thought you had work.” 

Flicking the lighter, blue eyes remained locker with emerald as the bartender leans into the flame with an inhale; Clarke watches the brunette like hawk as she keeps the flame raised. Pulling back slightly, a puff of smoke blows to the side of her lips while pale fingers push the lighter back into the pocket of her jeans. 

“Yeh, well, I have my ways.”

A smirk on the pink lips, “oh yeah? Like selling your soul to the devil?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Lexa teases after another inhale. “Plus, I was promised the night with the leading lady. So, here I am.” 

“A night huh?” Clarke licks her lips as she takes the stick from Lexa’s mouth. “Does that mean you will be staying until morning?” 

Pink lips wrap around the bud to take a puff as blue eyes shine with amusement.

“Well, if someone is offering.” Lexa replies playfully. “Although, I didn’t bring an overnight bag.” 

Clarke exhales smirking, “looks like you will have to sleep naked then.” 

“The only way to sleep if you ask me.” 

“Hm.” A pale hand lifts the cigarette back up to plump lips, waiting for her to inhale. “from the sound of it, I don’t think much sleeping would happen then.”

“Why is that?” Lexa questions allowing the girl to hold the stick as she takes a drag. 

Clarke bites her lip while the free hand slides from her back and grabs the tie. With a soft tug, the blonde responds lowly, “because I don’t own pajamas.” 

A tight, warmness coils deep in the bartender’s belly as she swallows thickly at the implication. Clarke takes another drag of the cigarette with that small smirk that Lexa has the strong urge to kiss right off. Blue eyes remained locked with emerald as the grip on the tie slackens to drop against her belt buckle. With another soft tug, long legs stumble forward while tan hands reach out to grab the blonde’s hips. Bringing her arm up, Clarke lets it rest on Lexa’s shoulder while her hand dangles in the air. Turning her head slightly, she takes another drag before bringing it back up to Lexa’s for one last hit. Brushing her lips against the girl’s fingers causes a spark of arousal to shoot down both of their bodies. 

“Come, let’s go for a walk,” Clarke whispers. 

Throwing the bud to the side, Lexa lets the rest of the smoke escape her lips. Without breaking eye contact, “lead the way.” 

Smirking, Clarke’s hand slides down the shoulder before linking her arm with Lexa’s. Moving across the grass together, Lexa notices a cobblestone walkway leading up to a gazebo in the back of the yard that is unoccupied and secluded. Gingerly walking across the cobblestone, Lexa glances around at the scenery. In the distance behind them is the rambunctious bouncy house along with the ongoing benefit. Light footsteps, chirping crickets, and cicadas sing into the starry night. As the white gazebo grows near, green eyes follow the intricate stringed lights illuminating the space while bushes of white flowers encircle the exterior. 

“This is beautiful.”

A soft hum of agreeance comes from Clarke, “it belonged to my grandmother; after she died, my father picked it up, placed it on a slab, and drove it here.”

As the approached the entrance, Lexa moves to take Clarke’s hand to aid her in stepping up. Grabbing a fist of material to lift the gown, Clarke grasps the warm, calloused hand strong hand and steps inside. “I plan to get married in this one day.” 

Following the blonde, Lexa steps inside to see Clarke gazing out into the forest. Nervously, the jitters attack her long legs as the silence settles over them. Muscles, quivering, trembling in anticipation for the mysterious women’s next move. Placing two hands on the rail, Clarke eyes the taller girl as she shuffled over to the side to lean against it while arms cross over her chest. 

“Tell me Lexa, what are your expectations?” 

An eyebrow raises, “what do you mean?”

Brushing all of her hair to the opposite side, Clarke turns her head to the side. Giving Lexa a view of her incredible side profile, which glows underneath the soft lights. A plump lip become trapped between pearly white teeth as the expanse of smooth, pale skins creates a soft burn deep inside Lexa’s belly.

“What do you expect from me?” 

A pause, “I don’t expect anything from you Clarke.”

A flash of something the bartender has never seen before, flickers behind blue eyes. Clarke, with an almost neutral expression remains quiet for a moment, judging her sincerity.

“I only ask because everyone usually wants something, money, attention, gifts, and connections. I have had people date me just to be able to be in the same room with my father to get a job. Everyone, everyone wants something.” Clarke explains softly, sadly. 

Lexa’s hard gaze softens as the girl continues, “as you can probably see, I am a very flirty person.” 

Understatement of the year. 

“Especial-, especially, when I see something I find attractive or beautiful. And you, Lexa, you are absolutely breathtaking.” Clarke says with a shy smile. “There is something about you. I just cannot put my finger on.”

A brief pause passes between the two staring at one another. 

“I’ve always been told to be cautious,” Clarke begins smiling faintly. “But, I can’t help that I follow my heart instead of my head. I fall fast, hard for the person, throwing caution to the wind.”

A soft chuckle escapes the blonde’s lips, “I’m being so nostalgic tonight. I apologize.” 

“I don’t mind.”

“Hm.”

With a small push off the railings, Clarke stands up straight to face the bartender. A few feet of space nestle between them as pale hands lock together behind the blonde’s back. Lexa, feels the butterflies fluttering once more deep beneath her abdominals under the intense gaze.

“Lexa, tell me, do you make it a habit of chasing girls you just meet in the back of an alleyway often?” 

Plump lips quirk into a small smile, “it happens more than one would think.”

“Oh really? And do these nights usually end with a kiss or maybe something more?” 

“Depends.”

“On?”

Lexa shrugs slightly with a hint of an amused smirk, “many things. The moonlight, how many breath mints I have, consent, the usual.” 

“I see,” the soft pitter patter of flat shoes reaches the brunette’s ears as Clarke walks across the worn out white wood. A soft creak of the weathered and tired boards breaks the silence between the two. Standing only a few inches away, the blonde has a small grin playing on her lips, no smirk. An arrogant smirk that causes Lexa to feel a urge to kiss that confident smirk right off those graceful features. Anxiously, Lexa subtly attempts to slide her sweaty palms down black material of jeans once more. Under the heated gaze of this lioness, she shifts her weight onto to the opposite leg, feeling the tremble once more from the proximity. 

“Tell me Clarke, are you always this mysterious with people?” 

A low, raspy chuckle, “I am no mystery Lexa. Ask and you shall receive an answer.” 

“Okay, Clarke, if that is even your real name. What were doing before you ended up in the alleyway?” 

“A gallery opening.”

A soft nod, “interesting. So, you enjoy art?” 

“I am attracted and intrigued by beautiful things,” Clarke responds with teasing grin, pale fingers move to tug lightly at the black tie. “I do enjoy art. One would think how horribly boring it would be to be an artist and not like it.” 

“You’re an artist?” 

“I am. It was actually my gallery opening I was attending.” 

The bartender can feel her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Not expecting such an answer, the Lexa licks her lips and glances away to avoid the intense gaze of the blonde. “You must be very talented then.”

“So people say,” she dismisses with a wave. “I just paint, draw, and create. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

With a peculiar feeling rising from her stomach, Lexa furrows her eyebrows. Noticing the change in demeanor, an eyebrow raises as Clarke studies the features of the bartender.

“What?”

A headshake, “nothing I just didn’t expect that answer. It’s so, so, humble.”

“And I am incapable of such being?” 

“No,” Lexa replies quickly, not wanting to offend the girl. “I mean, your, like, uh I don’t even know what I’m saying.” 

“I do.” Clarke’s tone changes. Sharp, clipped, and stony, it almost causes Lexa to physically flinch away. “You’re implying because I live a life of wealth, I am a snob. You think I go to galleries throwing money around while knowing nothing about art.” 

Baffled, the bartender bites her lip, trying to figure out a way to fix this. Fingers begin to twist behind her back as Clarke, with such disbelief, remains with a cold gaze. 

“I come from money. I never had to want for anything. But, that did not mean my parents did not raise me to know the value of a dollar, or how hard work and perseverance are the keys of success. I maybe be perceived as an entitled, silver spoon-fed rich girl because of this house and the nice things, but I am so much more than that.” 

Lexa’s hands twitch nervously as she listens intently to the girl before her. A knife twists her inside of guilt and regret for assuming or judging the girl. Clarke bites her lip before turning away, “we may come from different worlds. But, I don’t think we are that different Lexa. I mean, we both are much more than our pasts, present, and home life.”

Finally, finding her voice, long legs quickly move to stand behind the blonde. Eyes scanning over the blonde tresses as sweaty palms rub against jeans, once more. Lifting them, they hover, hesitate over the pale skin as Lexa bites her lips once more in fear. Eventually hands lay down gently before gently squeezing the shoulders comfortingly, “I’m sorry.” 

Upon those words leaving her lips, Lexa can feel the familiar sentiment of dread seeping into her core as the artist does not respond. Swallowing thickly, she wills her hands to remain still, to stop quivering as her warm hands feel the slightly chilliness of Clarke’s bare shoulders. Stepping closer, her body presses against Clarke’s backside as hands, nervously, slide down from pale shoulders to biceps and rub up and down, almost to warm the cool skin. A strong urge to press her nose into the luscious, blonde tresses that have a faint smell of vanilla becomes stifled when the blonde begins to move, wordlessly.

Turning around Clarke faces the brunette with a small smile, “let’s make a deal.” The blonde continues as pale hands move to fix the white collar, “as of right now, we promise to not judge, criticize, or assume anything of the other until after we know more about one another. Deal?”

Lexa, with a shy smile, replies, “deal.”

Before either one could say anything further, the soft sounds of the violin’s vibrating strings begins to fill the air, drowning out the cicadas as well as the bartender’s rambling mind. Curiously, green eyes flicker over to the left where a few of the performers, who seem to be helping set the mood, have gathered. If you asked Lexa, she would have sworn seeing a very familiar man, who looked an awful lot like Jake Griffin, hiding behind a very tiny bush while giving the musicians thumbs up. A soft chuckle escapes Clarke’s lips when she glances over as well. Smirking, Lexa juts her chin up and clears her throat to grab the blonde’s attention. Clarke raises a half amused, half questioning eyebrow as tan fingers straighten out the knot of the tie.

“Miss. Griffin.” Lexa backs up slightly, taking Clarke’s hand and bowing slightly. “May I have the honor of a dance?” 

A soft hum, “of course.” 

Standing up, Lexa lifts their clasped hands to twirl Clarke before moving forward. Placing her other hand on the blonde’s hip, she brings the girl closer. Blood rushing throughout her system, the bartender’s body hums in anticipation. Chest to chest, hip to hip, the tan hand slides to the girl’s lower back and remains their as they to waltz around the space of the gazebo. 

“Quite a charmer.” 

“I try.”

A soft chuckle from Clarke, “well, it’s certainly working, Ms. Woods. I feel like I’m swooning.” 

Lexa grins widely as she pulls back, extending their connected hands into a straight line. Smiling, with a soft tug, the bartender lifts her arm up and spins the girl. Hearing the infectious giggle causes the brunette’s heart to flutter once more. Reeling Clarke back towards her, the tan hand swoops back into place against the artist’s lower back as the blonde’s lips press against her cheek. Grasping the Clarke’s hand once more and holding the girl’s lower back, the brunette successfully dips Clarke before pulling her back up.

“Smooth, have any more tricks for me?” 

“Maybe. But, looks like you would have to stick around to find out.” 

“You’re not like most girls Ms. Woods.” 

Lexa responds, without hesitance, “I could say the same about you Miss. Griffin.” 

Spinning Clarke one more time and a delicate tug of the arm, Lexa feels the girl’s hands slither up toned biceps before stopping on her shoulders. Sliding inwards, they proceed to grab the collar of the white dress shirt and brings her closer. Millimeters away from each other, Lexa can feel her heart running on a treadmill. Winded, the light-headed, hazy feeling returns as her eyelids betray her with their heaviness. Feeling the warm breath on her lips, emerald eyes glance down at parted pink hues then back at crystal blue. Standing inside the white gazebo with stringed lights all around, illuminating the dark starry night, surrounded by bushes of white flowers, a strong overwhelming urge of desire hits the brunette. It causes every nerve throughout her physique to hum, buzz in pure, unadulterated, lust. 

“How likely would it be if you’d let me kiss you right now?” 

Licking her lips, the brunette half whispers, “although against my better judgement, highly likely.”

“Good.”

It was a faint murmur that fell on deaf ears. As Lexa’s hands slide to clasp against the blonde’s lower back, she felt herself being gently yanked forward by the collar. Tilting her head slightly to the left, plump lips captured the top pink lip as pink captured the bottom. Oh. In this moment, Lexa knows she is a goner. A line sunk into the deep seas of blue, too far to be reeled back in. Pulling back slightly, noses brush against each other as heads tilt to change positions. Deepening the kiss, the blonde’s tongue grazes her bottom lips before Lexa opens to give her access. Grabbing onto the hips once more, Lexa pushes forward causing Clarke to lean back slightly as her hands tangle into the intricate braids with a moan. The radiating warmth of the blonde’s body against her is sending the bartender’s senses into over drive. Such pressure against her pelvis leaves Lexa wanting to back the girl up against the railing, and roll her hips for friction. 

“Clarke!” A voice shouts, “oh shit, sorry.”

Breaking the kiss, the bartender stares at the blonde in an aroused daze. Fuck. Clarke’s head snaps to the left towards the offending sound, ready to lace into whomever interrupted. A man with a dark grey dress shirt, black tie, and black slacks bounces on the balls of his feet. Bellamey, her oldest friend, glances around uncomfortably.

“What?” she snaps aggravated.

Finally, as the clouded, hazy fog disappears, immediately, tan hands drop from curvy hips to dive straight into back pockets. Retreating into her shell, Lexa’s feet shuffle back to create some much needed space between them; quickly, blue hues look back over to her in concern.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says apologetically. “But, uh, we have a bit of a situation.”

“Situation?”

He licks his lips nervously, “A drunk Finn is attempting to ruin the benefit situation.” 

“Fuck.” 

“My sentiments exactly.”

Finn. A plump top lip curls in utter disgust at the repulsive name. The man, no the boyfriend of Clarke, is here making a scene while they are out in the gazebo making out like uncontrollable pubescent teenagers. Boyfriend. With such whimsical thinking, Lexa forgot all about the ignorant boy who this beautiful girl is in a relationship with. 

“Give me a moment. I’ll be there in second.” Once the boy runs off, the blonde focuses her attention on the quiet girl. “Lexa,” Clarke coos. “Babe, look at me.” 

With a neutral expression, the bartender glances up with a clenched jaw and balled fists. Immediately noticing the shift, Clarke lets out a soft knowing sigh. 

Lexa starts with a harsh tone. “I should go.” 

A pale wrist goes to grab her, but Lexa is much quicker. Dodging the attempt, long legs almost sprint back towards the party as the cool breeze kisses the hot skin of red cheeks. From behind, Lexa can hear the calls from the blonde to stop, to wait, to listen. And yet, her feet are moving rapidly on their own through instinct. Emerald eyes remained locked on the cobblestoned ground as the strong jaw clenches and her fists tighten; colliding with Raven, the girl makes every attempt to get past the mechanic to no avail.

“Lex?”

Rae has a concerned look at the blank expression upon the other girl’s face. Plump lips part, but no words, sentences, not even a sound falls from Lexa’s lips. Her head shakes back and forth while attempting to move past the other girl as trembling tans hands slightly push against her shoulders. However, the distraction allows a frantic Clarke to catch up and grasp her elbow, “Lex, please. Don’t go.” 

“You have a Finn to handle,” finally, words. 

A soft sigh, “yes, but, please don’t leave. I, I want to talk.” 

“CLARKE!”

Green eyes glance up to see a drunk Finn surrounded by several men, waving excitedly. An array of muddled feelings sinks its claws deep inside the chest of the brunette. With a crumbled shirt, half tucked in, bloodshot eyes, and a loose tie, the man looked like utter shit. Jake, one of the men holding him, with fury written all over his face, glowers at his daughter. 

“Clarke. Come help.” 

“Loooook ba-b,” he hiccups. “Babe, I sorry. So sorry. I did it. I fucked all those girls. But, but, but.” He hiccups with a stumble as he pushes past them. Wobbling like a newborn learning to walk, the man glides to the left before stumbling to the right. Arms stick out at his sides at a weak attempt of balancing himself out to be able to walk without the earth whirling from underneath. Narrowly missing the pool, Bellamey catches him as he stands in front of Clarke. Swaying slightly on his feet, Lexa’s lip curls in disgust at the strong stench of alcohol and stale cigars. 

“I sorry.” 

Through gritted teeth, the blonde seethes, “Finn, please, go with Bellamey to get some coffee.”

“But, bu.” He hiccups. “Youish mad. Taketh me backish.”

Pale fingers move to rub her temples as Jake ushers the crowd away from the disastrous scene. Aggravated blue hues flicker at the drunk before locking with the neutral gaze of the bartender. 

“Ba-aabe, I want-ish, uh, you to know,” Finn moves closer to Clarke, stumbling slightly over his feet. Without thinking, automatically, a tan hand reaches out to grasp the warm elbow of the blonde before pulling her near protectively. “Yoou, ho-ish, yooou?”

A meaty sausage of a finger juts at Lexa to stab her shoulder. Quickly, the unoccupied arm moves to deflect such movements along with a light shove to the man’s chest. Falling on his ass, Finn faces contorts in anger with his knitted brow and lips pressing in a thin line. 

“Bitsh, I, gee-ish you.” 

Unconsciously, a long leg takes a step forward, ready to defend and protect. Soft skin of a pale hand moves to wrap around her wrist, Clarke warns, “Lexa don’t. He’s drunk. This won’t help anything.” 

A scoff escapes the brunette’s lips, “if you can’t handle your liquor, don’t drink it.” 

With a hand planted to the ground, the disheveled man juts his ass in the air in an attempt to stand. Stumbling slightly, he falls into a table before Bellamey or anyone else can catch him. 

“Finn, you are embarrassing me right now.” Furious, the blonde turns to Bellamey and another guy. “Can you two take him to my room? Give him some coffee. I’ll join you two in a minute.” 

“You got it Princess.” 

Bellamey leans down, “come on buddy, let’s get you inside.” 

“Bu-but, Clarke.”

“Will be there soon. Come on.” 

“Clarke!”

Looking to her left, Abby with a gritted-toothed smile stares at her daughter as if she was going to murder her. Shit. Yanking the young blonde by the arm, away from prying eyes, a heated discussion begins as the shocked group overhears.

“Mother, I know.”

Abby huffs, “look, I told you to keep your playthings away from this benefit. He almost ruined my night in front of my colleagues. Do you have any idea what this could have done to my reputation? What his antics could have cost your father and his new prospects?”

“I will handle it.” Clarke growls in pure fury, yanking her arm back. “Oh by the way, he was actually my boyfriend Mom. Just because it wasn’t Wells or someone else off your preapproved list of suitors doesn’t mean he is beneath us.”

Abby smiles as someone walks by, “I don’t have time for this. We will discuss this later. Keep your guests in line. If not, find friends or people who can act their age.” 

“Fine.” 

With a curt nod, the windstorm named Abby Griffin swirls in the opposite direction as a girl, Octavia Lexa believes, moves to comfort her friend. In hush voices, an exchange between the two happens as Octavia glances over at her then back at Clarke. After speaking a moment longer, the blonde approaches Raven who is glaring at her and Lexa who still sports a neutral expression. 

“Lexa, will you accompany me inside?”

With a defeated sigh, the brunette nods and follows the shorter girl back into the mansion. Once inside, a pale hand wraps around her wrist to guide her into the kitchen. Quietly, Lexa leans against the counter, watching the blonde fetch something out of the fridge.

“Beer?” 

A nod. After uncapping them, the blonde passes one to the brunette who takes a rather large gulp. Emerald eyes glance around the newly renovated kitchen as Clarke drinks.

“I’m sorry.”

Lexa glances back to her, “for?”

“Making you think you are a mistress or whatever you may have called yourself in your head.”

Sadly, Emerald eyes glue themselves to the floor, “are you still seeing him? I know you two had that fight earlier.”

“Technically, we are taking a break.”

A melancholy look engulfs Lexa as she lets out a soft, disappointed sigh. Automatically, the light thud of the beer bottle resting against as pale hand removes the beer from the bartender’s hand. Clarke unfolds the crossed arms of the brunette’s before stepping closer.

“Please tell me you are actually gay and I didn’t just make out with a straight girl looking for a good time.” 

Clarke chuckles, “bisexual actually.”

“Well that’s relief. Anya would have never let me live that one down.”

Invading the brunette’s space, Clarke leans up to press her lips against the corner of the girl’s mouth once again. “There is so much I want to tell you.”

“But, your boyfriend is waiting.”

“You’re jealous.”

“And you wouldn’t be?” Lexa questions incredulously. Her head shakes slightly in disbelief while emerald eyes widen just a tad. A stern, yet firm look of passivity remains on the Clarke’s graceful features while crystal blue eyes focus on the knot snuggled between the pointed ends of the white dress shirt.

“I would be as well.” A pale hand raises to sweep the blonde locks over to one side as Clarke’s face moves in closer to press pale lips against the chiseled, clenched jaw. “But, it’s been over for a while.”

“Then why stay?”

“Security.”

“Security?” Lexa asks with a furrowed brow of confusion.

She nods pressing her lips once more the girl’s pulse point; “he is all I have ever known. High school sweethearts, on and off, it’s safe. I know with him I won’t have my heartbroken because the love between us is not like that. It never was.”

“But this,” a pale hand grasps the tan to press their palms together, “this scares me.” A small fleeting smile engulfs those beautiful features, shining through blue hues. “This spark, the fire between us that spreads like wildfire when we touch, this attachment. We only just met and yet every inch of me yearns to know more, craves to know what you would feel like beneath my fingertips.” 

“All my life I have been going through the motions, following the rules, and pleasing everyone. I’m tired of it.” Clarke whispers kissing the pads of Lexa’s fingers, one by one. “I want to feel free, wild, and live in the moment. You make me feel that way. Like I’m flying, yet grounded at the same time.” 

Lexa feels a small smile quirk up, “is this normal?”

A soft chuckle, “I have no idea.” 

“Ahem.”

Without moving, blue eyes remain locked with emerald eyes as she barely acknowledges the other person in the room. Expecting it to be Murphy, the blonde does not move away from the intimate embrace. Lexa’s free hand pressed against her lower back as their hips press together and their hands clasp.

“What is it Murphy?”

“As much I love to see my daughter so infatuated,” Jake teases. “You do have a massive monkey going ape shit in your room.”

Separating quickly, Clarke grabs the beer bottle before taking a swig while giving her father a nervous look. Jake, glances between the two, with a knowing grin, “guest my ass.”

A warm heat spreads throughout Lexa’s cheeks as the blush intensifies. The blonde throws the closets object, a dishrag, towards the direction of her father, “stop it! You are embarrassing me.” 

“Okay, okay. I just came into to tell you to take care of upstairs before your mother does.” Jake reminds. When he disappears the tense shoulders of the bartender slump in relief. Until his head pops back in with a shit-eating grin, “oh, and Lexa?”

Quickly straightening up, “yes sir?” 

“First, that is my baby girl right there, don’t make me kill you. I really don’t want to have to do that. You seem like a very sweet person. And second, I expect to have you over for dinner if this goes any further

“DAD!”

Snickering Jake disappears before Clarke could throw the beer bottle. Turning back with a sheepish grin, “sorry about him. He’s a character.” 

“It’s fine.”

Clarke sighs in procrastination, “I guess I should head up there and deal with this.”

A mischievous grin engulfs the brunette’s face, “or don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Moving closer, their lips barely grazing. A sly smirk grace the plump lips and shines brightly through the crinkled corners of gleaming emerald hues. “Come with me. Let’s take a ride. You want to feel free, I can make that happen.” 

Skeptically, Clarke bites her lip in contemplation; “what about my dress?”

“We can stop at my place; you can wear something of mine.” Lexa insists. Closing the gap, plump lips capture Clarke’s bottom lip. A soft kiss before Lexa grasps the lip between her teeth and tugging gently before releasing. “Come with me. At least, be mine for the night.” 

“Come on,” Lexa urges, pressing a soft kiss once more. Pale hands move to cup her cheeks as Clarke kisses her back, pulling back after a minute. 

“What about my mom?” 

A breathy response falls from Lexa’s lips as emerald eyes dart back to down to slightly bruised lips. A lusty heaviness once more seems to weigh her eyelids down, a serious expression appears on her face; “what about her?” 

“I’m not sure she would approve,” Clarke mutters teasingly as Lexa surges forward for another kiss as hands push against curvy hips. The silk of the fabric tickles the bartenders skin as Clarke’s tongue willingly dances with hers; pushing the girl backwards, bodies stumble before the blonde’s back collides with the refrigerator. 

Breaking the kiss, panting slightly, a tan hand moves to cup the flushed cheek as emerald eyes gaze into hazy blue. Lexa responds, pleading once more. “Come with me.” 

A wicked grin appears on the blonde’s face, Clarke grabs the black tie and practically drags the girl to the door. Stumbling a bit, long legs catch up before strong arms encircle around the curvy waist. As Lexa’s chest presses against the back, her lips touch the flushed cheek once more. Clarke’s hand moves to grasp the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Nuzzling her nose in the sweet scent of Clarke’s coconut shampoo, a grin appears on the blonde’s face. Adrenaline pumping, the brunette can feel her heart ready to explode. 

“Lexa,” a half moan, half whisper falls from the blonde’s lips when teeth nip at the unsuspecting earlobe. Absolutely giddy, the two stumble down the corridor. Swaying to the left, to the right, laughing as they bump into a lonely table, both girls drunk on the moment. A wide grin graces the usual stony features before plump lips place an open-mouthed kiss against the pale skin exposed on the blonde’s shoulder. Automatically, before Lexa realizes it, instead of staggering towards the door, feet move to press the younger girl against the wall. Gripping onto the strong biceps, the blonde stumbles back under Lexa’s guidance. With a soft thud, Clark’s back meets the wall as Lexa’s is already moving in for a kiss. When the blonde parts her lips, the brunette’s tongue pushes to tangle with the eager tongue. A moan erupts from the base of Lexa’s throat as hands, hastily, slide up and down. Squeezing hips, sides, hips and tugging the girl closer, the bartender cannot get enough, feel enough. With an unquenchable thirst, jean clad hips, slowly, roll upwards against the silk covered thigh; a tan hand moving between the slit to the pare flesh of Clarke’s outer thigh, rubbing the pads of her fingertips up and down. Frantically, lips press against one another as Lexa curls her finger underneath the soft, supple flesh of the bare thigh and tugs it upwards. A low moan emits from the blonde as she hooks her leg around the hip and Lexa thrusts up into her. As Clarke begins to suck gently on the tip of her tongue, Lexa’s fingertips slide further upwards to graze the junction between the thigh and buttocks. Pressed firmly against one another, a chill slither down Lexa’s spine as Clarke’s fingertips lightly caress the back of the brunette’s neck. Like a gentle swipe of a feather, the touch causes goosebumps down her spine while Clarke nips at the plump bottom lip. 

“Lexa,” another faint murmur falling from smirking lips. Lustfully, a tan hand hurriedly brushes golden yellow hair behind a shoulder to expose the supple skin of her neck. Wildly, the brunette’s heart stammers strongly against her ribcage while the undeniable heat at her core intensifies. Pale hands grip onto her neck and shirt, knuckles white as the hips, slowly, roll into the belt buckle. Clarke tugs at the white dress shirt, pulling it free from the confines of the girl’s pants. A pale hand slips under to scratch against the tightening abdominal muscles before sliding to the girl’s lower back and dipping an inch underneath the waistband. Clarke’s head falls back at the delicious pressure of the hard buckle with every pleasurable movement of the matching thrusts. Arching back, another quiet giggle fills the still house while plump lips leave open mouth kisses all over. Latching onto the blonde’s pulse point, Lexa sucks harder as her nails dig into the blonde’s thigh as she holds it over her hip. Clarke’s head falls forward to bite onto the white cover clothed shoulder. Her eyes growing heavy with lust, threatening to close. With another deep, slow roll, Lexa’s grip on her thigh tighten even more. A breathy moan, shuffling of clothing against one another, and faints giggles can be heard throughout the home. 

“We need more trays from the supply closet.” 

Upon hearing a waiter’s voice, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching fill the corridor. Plump lips continue caress the curve of Clarke’s neck while hips rock in a faster pace; however, the dazed blue hues flicker over to see the silhouette of a tall man. A quiet moan escapes from pink lips as teeth sink into the supple flesh between her neck and shoulder blade. “Lexa. Someone’s coming,” she breathes out, quickening the speed of her hips. Fingernails scrape down the expanse of the bartender’s back. A burn, a tight coil deep within her belly continues to intensify as the brunette digs her pelvis into hers. With every slow, deep thrust, the belt buckle hits her in the most pleasurable place that has her eyes clamping shut and fingers curling tightly. “Fuck,” plump lips murmur as the blonde’s pelvis rocks harder, faster. The hold on Lexa’s neck tightens as their pace quickens with each thrust. “Clarke,” a breathy moan comes from the brunette as she feels the familiar tightening of her high.

“We need more champagne flutes as well.”

With the loud shout and slapping of shoes against marble floor, lips stop their movements as the slightly sweaty forehead presses into the warm collarbone. Fuck. Breathing heavily, trying to swallow the undeniable heat between long legs, hips continue to rock furiously towards a climax. “So close,” the blonde whines beneath her when Lexa sucks harder on the hammering pulse point. She can feel it, so damn near. But, the nosily bangs cause her to finally cease all movements and pull away. “Shit,” she mutters. Leaning back with a cloud of arousal and a hint of playfulness swarming emerald eyes, the tan hand cups her cheek while a thumb moves to glide back and forth against bruised lips. Eyes, almost frantically, scan Clarke’s features who merely grins with excitement and eagerness. 

“I’ve never felt this way before,” Lexa murmurs. 

A serious look sweeps the blonde’s features, “I know the feeling.” Pink lips part to engulf the tip of the trembling thumb, encasing the digit she sucks gently. Blue eyes remain locked with lustful, wanting emerald ones as Lexa’s brows furrow and a light moan erupts from the bottom of her throat. With another suck, lips release the shaky finger.

“Don’t forget straws.” 

Another shout, emerald eyes flicker away from lips to see the man approaching. “Shit,” a mumble. With another giddy giggle falling from Clarke’s mouth, quickly, her hands find the bartender’s to intertwine them. Tugging, feet are moving once again while Lexa, grinning, trails behind. Already waiting, the butler hands the leather jacket, which she places around the blonde’s shoulders, and helmet. He barely makes eye contact, having been the one to watch such a sinful display. Hurriedly tapping of footsteps hitting cement steps pierce the quietness. Clarke, holding a tan hand in one and a bunched-up material for her dress, cannot contain the grin spreading across her face. Before they make it to the bottom, Jasper is already running off to the parking area. Suddenly, Clarke, in the middle of the staircase, freezes; unbeknownst to Lexa, the linked hands cause her unsuspecting body to jolt back slightly. Stumbling slightly, emerald eyes glance up towards piercing blues.

“What?” Lexa asks concerned. With Clarke standing one step higher, emerald eyes gaze up with fear dancing behind them. Wordlessly, the blonde moves to the edge of the step. 

“Nothing,” and warm hands cup Lexa’s cheeks before guiding the face towards hers. Pressing another soft kiss against the eager mouth, teeth sink into the plump lip. Leaning back, with a delicate tug, Clarke releases the plump lip before pecking them once more. A loud rumble of the approaching motorcycle has Lexa’s head turning towards the bottom of the stairs. “Come on,” a faint whisper, a tug of her arm. Making their way down, still grinning, Lexa moves to straddle the rumbling machinery first. A reluctant Clarke watches the girl put on a spare helmet, rev slightly, before meeting her gaze.

“CLARKE!” Abby screams from the door.

Leaning back, emerald eyes sees a seething Abby, with a chasing Jake, heading straight for them. Hiking up the gown, short legs begin to rush down the steps in a whirlwind. Lexa can feel the hammering of the stolen heart beating quicker with every passing minute, every tap of a high heel. Ignoring the calls of her husband, Abby, on a mission, flies down the first set of stairs. 

“Shit,” Clarke mutters softly, glancing back.

“DON’T YOU DARE GET ON THAT BIKE. GET BACK INSIDE NOW!”

Torn, the blonde glances between her parents and the enchanting young women, unable to move. Biting her lip, blue eyes lock with hopeful emerald. 

“GET AWAY FROM THAT RIFF RAFF.”

Clenching her fists, Lexa tries to ignore that dig at her. Swallowing thickly, slightly preparing herself for rejection, an arm stretches out; with her hand, open, palm up, emerald eyes plead with worrisome crystal blue, “please.” It is one word that Lexa pours her whole being in, hoping the blonde would understand. 

“CLARKE ABIGAIL GRIFFIN! I WILL NOT TELL YOU AGAIN. I WILL CUT YOUR TRUST FUND! GET BACK INSIDE WITH OUR PEOPLE.”

And with that, the pale hand connects with a leather glove. Quickly, hiking the gown up, Clarke throws her leg over the rumbling bike.  
”CLARKE!”

Straddling the bike, hurriedly, the black helmet encases the golden blonde tresses; excitedly, Lexa revs the engine, effectively tuning out the frantic and fuming mother. When Clarke’s arms encircle her waist, clasp against lower abdominal tightly, the eager black boot kicks the stand up before taking off. Wind whipping against them, the blonde glances over her shoulder to see her mother at the end of the steps screaming with hands waving crazily and her father smiling. Whizzing down the black, cement driveway, trees whip past the infatuated couple. Picking up speed causes the hold around her waist to tighten as Clarke presses the side of her head against Lexa’s back. Smirking, with a gleam of excitement, the brunette leans into the turn to exit the neighborhood.


	3. Sugar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, and general appreciation. This chapter is kind of a filler as I continue to figure out where the story will go. I'm all for angst, just saying. Anyway, enjoy, have a great day, and drop a comment if you are feeling lucky!

“Grounders?”

Pulling off the helmet, playful green eyes flicker over to the dive bar then back at the blonde. Swinging her leg over the bike to dismount, a tan hand slides down the expanse of Clarke’s forearm to her palm. Spreading the long, slim fingers, pads gently run over the pale skin before finding the spaces between and interlocking their hands.

A small smile plays at the brunette’s lips, “also known as the place where we first met. Come on.”

“I thought you were taking me back to your apartment,” Clarke replies skeptically, still in the expense, white gown. 

“I am. I live above the bar,” Lexa explains, leading the way.

Upon entering the establishment, the brunette is greeted by a few regular customers. Most of whom look like they have stepped out of a Harley Davidson commercial. A smell of stale cigars and cigarettes fills the blonde’s nostrils as the duo makes their way through the throngs of people. In the back, a group of gruffly men begin to argue over a game of pool; quickly, things become escalated as the two members of separate gangs begin to shove one another over a bet. 

“Commander, why don’t you join us for a game of pool?”

With a wave of her hand, “maybe next time Echo.”

A small smile plays Clarke’s lips watching the girl in her element. Customers, nodding, waving, and acknowledging her presence as if she was the leader of their tribe. Tall, burley, stocky men huddle around tables in the dimly lit bar, watching every move the blonde made; instinctively, the blonde shuffles closer to press against Lexa who briefly looks at her with a warm smile. 

“LEXA! What the hell are you doing here?” Anya shouts as the duo approach. “I told you t-oh. Why hello there again.”

Lincoln behind the bar, grins proudly as Ryder, another bartender, shamelessly eyes the busty body of the blonde. 

“Hey,” Clarke gives a shy wave.

“Don’t mind us.” Lexa begins, not stopping for pleasantries. “We are going upstairs.” 

A chorus of hoots, hollers and whistles fill the air. “Get it in Lexa,” a shout from a regular, Gustus, makes the blonde chuckle while tan cheeks heat up in pure embarrassment. Hastily, tan hands practically shove the laughing girl through the swinging doors to escape any further humiliation. 

“Well aren’t you Miss. Popular,” blue eyes shine teasingly with a smirk.

A shrug, “in Polis, family doesn’t just mean blood.” 

Leading the girl down the corridor towards a closed door marked, do not enter, Lexa pulls out keys to open it. Meanwhile, pale arms encircle the bartender’s waist before warm lips press against the tan skin peeking out from underneath the white collar. Fumbling a low chuckle emits next to her ear as teeth playfully nip at the lobe, “having a bit of trouble there, Ms. Woods?” 

Cursing lowly as the shaky hand misses the lock once more; “it’s hard to concentrate with you doing that.” 

Another low, husky chuckle rings the girl’s ear before a pale hand moves to cover the trembling tan to insert the key, perfectly, into the lock. With a click, the brunette twists the cold, brass knob to reveal a set of stairs leading up to another closed door. Taking the pale hand once more, Lexa guides the girl up; luckily, for the bartender, the other entrance remains unlocked and saving the bartender from any other further humiliation of opening doors. 

“It’s not a mansion,” Lexa begins, nervous at the blonde’s reaction. “But, it’s home.” 

Holding the door open, smirking blue eyes enter the threshold of the run down studio apartment. A rather spacious room, with wood floors, stands before the two. Upon entering to the left a leather sofa sits in front of a coffee table, facing the mounted television screen. A bookshelf filled with dozens of titles stands tall in the corner.

“It’s not much.”

Not commenting, blue eyes sweep the expanse. In the back left corner, a full size, black quilted mattress presses against the wall while a few feet to the right a small kitchen area with a tiny island can be found. Two closed doors, one being the bathroom and another for storage, can be found over to her right. Other knickknacks, a dresser, and a desk fill up any leftover space.

“It’s perfect,” the blonde says softly, roaming over everything. “It’s so you.”

With a shrug, the bartender replies. “Let’s get you something more comfortable.” 

After shedding the heavy, black boots, long legs stride across the apartment towards the dresser near the bed. Curiously, blue eyes watch the bartender’s movements as she moves towards the girl. A pale hand glides across the top of the leather couch. Curiously, Clarke’s gaze wanders around the space, taking in the area, knick-knacks, and other aesthetic features of the apartment. 

“Sweatpants, ok? I highly doubt you would fit in my jeans.” 

Eyeing a few pictures on the walls of a smiling five-year old brunette, a quick response. “Anything is fine.”

Lexa continues to rifle through her wardrobe as Clarke grins, “is this you?”

Movements cease when emerald eyes flicker back to see a pale hand gesture to one of the photos. A rare photo of her, Anya, and Lincoln smiling on their first day of school.

“Yes, me and my cousins.”

A faint nod as blue eyes study the portrait, “the ones downstairs?”

“Yes.”

Shuffling of clothes fills the air while Clarke grins, “you were so cute. What happened?” 

A tan arms wraps around the petite waist while the brunette presses her lips to warm cheek. A giggle escapes the blonde’s lips while Lexa presses against her back harder. “Rude,” a small whisper reaches her ears before teeth nip, playfully, at the side of her neck. Lifting the clothes in front of the girl, the brunette pulls away with a small smile, “these should fit. The bathroom is over there.” 

Taking the black yoga pants and soft, grey cotton V-neck, Clarke leans her head back to peck Lexa’s cheek in gratitude. Moving slightly over, pink lips tickle the corner of plump one while the bartender’s hold slackens to allow the girl to move; after turning around, Clarke places a tender kiss upon Lexa’s lips. Without another word, the blonde stalks past the taller girl, their arms brush against one another. Giving Lexa her bare back, blue eyes peek over the shoulder, “can you unzip me?” 

Fuck. With a nervous gulp, lustful emerald eyes scan the expanse of smooth, untouched skin. Images of potential red, scratch marks painting the pale flesh where Lexa would drag her fingernails down as she rides the girl’s lap, fills her mind. Unconsciously, a tongue peeks out to wet the now dry lips as their gaze slithers down the slight indents of the column of her spine. 

“Lexa?” 

“Right,” snapping out of the daze, long legs close the distance between the two. “Zipper.” With failed attempts, Lexa finds herself struggling to remove any lustful images of the girl bent over,   
begging for more. From their standpoint, across from the duo, hangs a full-length mirror against the panel of the storage closet. Nervously, the pads of her fingertips lightly touch Clarke’s shoulders as emerald eyes catch the heated gaze of crystal blues. 

“Why Ms. Woods, are you blushing?” 

A faint no falls from plump lips as she diverts her stare back down to the awaiting zipper. Trembling fingers, fumbling, grasp the cold, metal before pulling it downwards, to expose more supple skin and the band, most likely, of a lacy red bra. The zipping sound echoes loudly throughout the apartment despite such a small action. As the material expands outwards into a V, Lexa can feel her heart hammering in her temples. Once at the end, without realizing, the pad of her middle finger delicately slides down the column of the spine, noticing how the baby hairs erupt in goosebumps; a soft chuckle causes anxious emerald eyes to glance back up at expecting blue.

“What?” 

Clarke smirks, “nothing, just, I’ve never seen someone get so worked up by unzipping my dress.”

A scoff, accompanied by an eye roll, leaves the brunette giving the girl a slight push towards the bathroom. “Go change.”

Clarke lets out a laugh at the pouting brunette. “Aw, don’t pout. It’s very cute.” 

“I’m not cute,” Lexa huffs, clearly offended at such accusation. 

Suddenly, swift fingers gently grab onto the chiseled, clenched jaw to guide emerald to meet blue. Playful cerulean scan the girl’s gorgeous features, “you’re right. You’re not cute.” 

A triumphant grins appears on Lexa’s face as the hand turns her face slightly, pink lips press softly against the cheek. Clarke whispers against the warm skin, “you are sexy.”

“Mhmm.”

Smiling, Clarke turns her face to the other side to kiss the lonely cheek. “beautiful.” 

Clarke’s mouth finds Lexa in a passionate, yet slow kiss. Pulling back, Clarke slowly moves away with a grin, “and adorable.”

“Clarke!” Lexa huffs as the other girl takes off towards the bathroom, giggling. Although mildly offended, emerald eyes cannot seem to move the gaze from the supple backside of the blonde. Before   
she disappears inside, Clarke throws a seductive glance over her shoulder.

“Don’t miss me too much.”

When the soft click rings out, Lexa lets out a shaky breath. Fingertips dig into temples, rubbing in a circular motion at the turn of events. What am I even doing? Letting out another sigh, tans move to untie the knot and sliding the piece of material out from underneath the white collar. An eyebrow lifts in response to the insane thoughts running rampant while one by one, nimble fingers push small circular buttons out of the slits. Tugging the material out of her jeans and pulls it off before the tone arm flicks the dress shirt into the corner and pulls out a black, snug, t-shirt with deep neckline. Remaining in black jeans, the brunette begins to pace; soft pitter patter of sock covered feet fill the quiet space. Although very disciplined and critical, somehow, Lexa did not plan past having the beautiful girl straddle the motorcycle. Blissfully unaware, the girl continues to pace, spine straight and hands clasped against her lower back. Thinking, analyzing, Lexa replays each moment of the party over in her head. Watching, Lexa sees groups of people walking, stumbling around, most likely bar hoping. Stuck inside the confined space of her mind, the brunette barely registers arms wrapping around her waist and lips pressing against her cloth covered shoulder.

“Your thinking is so loud,” the blonde jokes, half mumbled.

A soft sigh as Lexa turns her head to the side, looking at the blonde through peripherals. “Penny for your thoughts?” 

“Nothing important,” the brunette mutters quietly, turning around.

Pale hands remain locked around the slim waist while the brunette’s move to cup her face; thumbs running back and forth against warm cheeks as emerald eyes flicker down to a half smirk. 

“Something tells me that is a lie,” the blonde retorts. “But, anyway, if you were curious, my phone has been officially blown up with very angry texts from my mother.” 

“Oh yeah,” plump lips move to press against her jaw.

A breathy sigh, “yeh, she’s not too happy with me blowing off the benefit for a sexy, brunette on a big, black, obnoxiously loud motorcycle.”

Lightly sucking on the blonde’s pulse point, Lexa pulls back only to respond. “I bet. Imagine how angry she’d be if she found out what the sexy brunette plans on doing to her beautiful daughter all, night, long.” 

“Oh,” a soft moan as lips attach onto the hammering pulse point of the blonde. Pale fingers curl against the material of the black shirt into balled fists. A tan hand slides from the curve of the blonde’s neck towards the base to thread into hair, bringing the girl closer as plump lips continue their assault. Tugging slightly, Clarke’s head leans back when teeth scrap at the column of the front of her neck to attack the opposite side. Biting, nipping, plump lips, with open mouth kisses, work their way up towards the girl’s ear; a tongue slides out to curl against the earlobe before lips wrap around and suck. 

“Lexa,” Clarke whimpers as long legs move forward causing the blonde to shuffle back. Guiding the breathless girl to the edge of the bed, Lexa continues to bite, suck, and lick. Once the back of Clarke’s knees hit, she is already falling to sit as the bartender pulls away. Glancing upwards towards, momentarily, Clarke stares at Lexa; chests slightly heaving, the quiet moment spurs something deep within the duo. A spark of a strongly, lit fire of desire that does not seem to flicker or waver at the endless outcomes of how badly this could end up in the morning. Wordlessly, Lexa surges down towards waiting lips. As soon as they touch, the brunette is cupping the blonde’s face and Clarke’s hands shoot out to latch onto tone thighs; with a swift tug, immediately, one leg of Lexa’s is pushing against the mattress, quickly, straddling the blonde. Breaking the kiss, Lexa lets the tips of her nose lightly caress as the blonde’s as she changes positions. Tilting her head, Lexa deepens the kiss by slipping her tongue to massage with the blonde’s eager one; fisting the material of the jeans, a pale hand glides underneath the snug shirt to scrap her nails down the tone back. Breaking the kiss, Lexa, slightly breathing heavily, lets out a small whimper when Clarke’s tongue flicks her top lip. 

“LEXA!”

A shout along with continuous bangs on the door causes the duo to jump. With an attempt to ignore the interruption, Lexa kisses the collarbone that elicits a moan from the blonde. As the banging gets louder, pulling away, Clarke pecks her cheek before patting her bottom. “Sounds important, you better go answer it.”

“I rather not,” the bartender retorts moving in for another soft kiss. “Maybe, if we just ignore, they will disappear.” Clarke’s giggle is muted when plump lips press against hers once more. 

“BITCH I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE!”

Reluctantly pulling away, the girl places her head against the shoulder as she feels Clarke’s hands caressing her back, sliding up then down repeatedly. Kissing her the cloth covered shoulder, Clarke reminds the frustrated girl. “We have all night.” 

“Hm,” moving to stand, Lexa pecks the girl’s lips before walking away. Smirking, Clarke leans back on the bed, arms straight as hands push against the mattress to hold her weight. Lexa, glancing back, finds herself shiver slightly as blonde legs open in a suggestive manner and closing once more. Biting her lip, Lexa watches those legs swing open; Clarke, loving the reaction, continues to have a smirk with playfulness bouncing around blue hues.

“Lex,” she chides, “the door.” 

Snapping out of her daze, “right, door.” 

Turning the knob, Lexa almost rips the door off its hinges to see Anya with wide eyes. Breathing heavily, the owner shuffles from side to side, “I know you have a very hot blonde with you.”

“Clearly.”

Anya clicks her tongue, “but, apparently, a bunch of college kids are doing a crawl today. I don’t have enough hands. Could you just help me out for bit?” 

“Seriously?” Lexa growls frustrated, nodding her head backwards. Surely hoping the owner would take a hint and leave. “I’m busy.” 

“I know,” the owner replies sighing, running her hand through unruly hair. “I wouldn’t ask if I really didn’t need your help.”

“Anya,” Lexa begins, yet stops when a body presses against hers. Slipping Lexa’s arm around her shoulders, Clarke grins. “Come on, Lexa. It’d be fun. I’d get to see you in your element.” 

“Clarke.”

Anya interjects, “yeh, listen to Blondie! She’s got the right idea.” 

“Fine,” the exasperated brunette surrenders when a pink lip juts out along with blue puppy dog eyes. Moving away, the girl grabs the tie, throws it on and interlocks their fingers. Anya, grinning, hops down the steps while Lexa guides the excited blonde. Stupid Anya. Approaching the swinging doors, the loud bar becomes apparent. Various shouts of shots ring throughout the room as one of the infamous local bands rocks out on the makeshift stage. 

“I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Wordlessly, Anya disappears into the noisy space, leaving the couple alone. Emerald eyes flicker over to blue who is grinning while her other hand twirls her phone. “Stick by the bar, ok?” 

“Of course,” the blonde replies with a nod. “I told you, I want to see you being you.” 

A snort comes from the brunette at that response. “You make me seem more interesting than I am.” 

With a huff, the bartender follows the bouncing blonde. Groups of rowdy college kids, slamming money on the bar, wait for their drinks and shout. A few pool tables in the back have been taken over by snobby, posh looking yuppies that have decided to slum it. Regular customers, huddled in the corner, glare at the bright yellow, blue, and pink polos running around. 

“Look Clarke, your people.” Lexa says sarcastically. 

A pale hand slaps the taller girl’s stomach.

“Ey, Princess, over here.” 

Emerald eyes quickly flicker over to see Raven waving Clarke over; sitting next to her, clearly flirting with Lincoln is the short, brunette from the party, Octavia. With a soft sigh, Lexa, reluctantly, moves towards the end of the bar. A soft chuckle falls from the blonde’s lips at the dejected sound of the girl. Tugging at the girl’s arm, Lexa stumbles back as blue eyes flicker with amusement at the antics. Turning to face the blonde, the bartender wraps both arms around the girl’s waist before leaning forward to capture the bottom lip between plump ones. The blonde cups the girl’s cheeks, kissing back gently; unsurprisingly, an eruption of shouts can be heard from the side of the room. 

“Kiss her again!”

Pulling away, Lexa huffs before kissing the girl’s cheek and moving towards the behind the bar; Clarke, grinning, makes her way over to her friends. Lexa’s eyes narrow as Octavia swings a leather clad arm over the girl’s shoulder and kissing her cheek. A spike of hot molten lava called jealousy stabs the bartender in her lower abdomen. A loud shout at her from the right side causes her to snap out of her mildly violent thoughts to start mixing drink. As she clutches the metal shaker, arms swinging back and forth, emerald eyes flicker over to see Clarke taking a shot, and when blue connects with green, a wink is thrown her way before knocking back the shot. Quickly, tan hands line up a row of shots in front of shouting fraternity brothers; pouring tequila across the line, the brunette watches as they down them before screaming some more. With a bored expression, emerald eyes witness two of them head butt each other in excitement. Morons, I’m surrounded by morons. Moving past Lincoln, the brunette makes her way over to Clarke who is leaning against the bar. 

“And how may I help you, beautiful?”

With a sexy smirk, emerald eyes observe Clarke lean forward even more as her arms cross to lean against the bar, effectively, pushing out the already exposed cleavage out more. Licking her lips, Lexa’s gaze flickers up to see the artist sexy smirk turn into a cocky one as tan hands press into the smooth table top bar and elbows lock straight. 

“Is it strange that I find you working behind this bar to be very sexy.”

A strange twitch at the corners of her plump lips cause Lexa to give the girl a small smile, “oh yeh? Is it my amazing shaking skills or the way I pour the drinks?”

Clarke snorts with a playful eyeroll, “definitely the shaker.” Fingertips begin their descent up the tan arms to rest on top of the bartender’s straining biceps; Lexa bites back a smile as she leans forward to press her lips against the girl’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt this cute moment, but-“ Octavia begins, standing behind the blonde. “I do remember you promising to play some pool with me just a few minutes ago.”

A scowl graces the brunette’s face at the other girl’s suggestion of whisking Clarke to the back of the establishment. Without breaking her gaze on the bartender, the artist replies. “I’ll be there in a second. Go setup.” 

Wordlessly the girl disappears while Lexa lets out a huff, “this is not going as planned.” 

“We have all night,” Clarke coos, fingertips dancing up to caress the side of the girl’s neck. “Relax, finish up then I’m all yours, sugar.” 

Lexa bites back a smile at the pet name, “go play.” 

Throwing the girl, a grin, the blonde kisses her again before hopping off the stool and pushing her way through the throng of people. Not before she gestures to the front of the bar, where a group of gel comb over boys with bright, neon polos stand. “Hop to it; I’ll be waiting.”

Lexa licks her lip as emerald eyes slither down to the retreating backside of the blonde; a twitch of her eyebrow causes the lustful look on her face to disappear. With an exasperated sigh, the brunette moves towards the bar where the frat boys continue to shout with such enthusiasm. Fuck.   
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>  
Two frantic, mind-numbing, and very aggravating hours later, Lexa lets out a sigh of relief when the loud, packed house seems to dwindle down to the usual customers. Emerald eyes glance over to see Ryder placing clean glasses back on the bar as Lincoln wipes down the surface; looking around, Lexa searches for the blonde beauty who has seemed to vanish in thin air. Eyebrows furrow when the bartender does not find Raven or Octavia either. After clapping the back of Lincoln, tan hands flings on her leather jacket as she makes her way to the corner of the pool table where Gustus sits. 

“Gustus.”

His head turns with a wistful smile, “Commander.”

“Have you seen the blonde I was with earlier?” 

A large thumb juts out over his shoulder, “outside. She had a phone call.” 

Patting his shoulder on the way out, the scuffing sound of her motorcycle boots fills her ears. Connecting with the metal bar, tan hands push against the it; a rattling noise of the handle, a creak of the hinges, and a cold breeze hit the girl’s warm cheeks. Stepping out, emerald eyes flicker around the quiet neighborhood before a sound catches her attention. 

“Bellamey, no, just shut up for a second.”

Quietly stepping out, Lexa leans against the brick wall while Clarke, under a nearby streetlamp, runs a hand through tousled hair as she clutches the phone to her right ear. A tan hand slips into the leather jacket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, tapping one out, and bringing it to her lips. It dangles from plump lips as hands shove the package into the pocket before fishing out her lighter. Tired emerald eyes carefully observe the girl then the surroundings as a deep inhale of nicotine helps the coldness in her body warm up.

“Yes, Octavia is here. She’s with Raven downstairs. Yes, we are in Polis.” Clarke pauses, legs begin to pace. “You are making a bigger deal than this is. We are both safe; so just chill the fuck out. No. Do not put my mother on the phone.” 

Another pause, “fuck Bellamey, I don’t need fucking rescuing. She didn’t kidnap me, I willingly decided to get on her motorcycle and come here.” 

Clarke lets out a frustrated sigh as Lexa flicks the cigarette ashes off the ember lit tip. Lips curling into a circle to blow out the smoke from the side of her mouth. Watching, waiting patiently for the blonde to end the phone call; pressing a heel into the brick wall, the brunette tries to calm the fluttering of wings deep inside her belly every time the sound of Clarke’s voice hits her ears. 

“Just stop, no, Bellamey! I’m not a fucking child. Will you back the fuck off? I am fine. I’m with Lexa. No, no, I don’t want you to come looking for me.”

Rolling her eyes, the brunette pushes off with the cigarette dangling from her lips once more and stuffing one hand into the pocket of the jacket. Making her way over, blue eyes do a double take as Clarke realizes the other girl is approaching. Wordlessly, a tan hand reaches out to take the phone before pulling out the cigarette and offering it to the blonde; a calloused thumb presses against the touch screen to tap the red, end button. 

“Did you just hang up on him, sugar?”

Lexa pushes the phone into the pouch of her hoodie that Clarke seems to have gotten her hand on. “Yes, I did, doll face.”

Clarke smirks before tugging on the belt buckle to pull the other girl closer. Immediately, as the bartender’s scuffed boot shuffle closer and the warmth of body heat hits the blonde, Clarke is already leaning forward for a kiss, which the brunette happily reciprocates. Leaning back slightly, pale fingers lift the rest of the stick to plump lips; wrapping around the end, Lexa inhales, releases, and watches Clarke flick it to the side. 

“I want to show you something.” 

An eyebrow raises as sexy smirk extends on the blonde’s lips, “you show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”

Lexa lets out a small chuckle as the brunette nuzzles her nose into the neck of the blonde’s, “are you always so forward, Miss. Griffin?” 

Playfully nipping at the smooth skin of the pale neck, Lexa could almost feel the vibrations of the low, husky chuckle. Long legs move forward as the bartender guides Clarke back until she is pressed against the dimly light lamppost; nipping once more at the pulse point, Lexa gasps as Clarke’s hands slithered up her dress shirt to squeeze her chest. 

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Miss. Woods. I bet if I was to slide my hand further south of the border, you’d definitely show me how you like it.” 

Tan hands move to grab the blonde’s hands as Lexa pulls back with a small smile. Playful blue hues flicker back and forth as she gazes into emerald. 

“You really know how to make a girl feel special.” 

Clarke beams, “I try. Now, show me whatever it is you want. I’m all yours.” 

“What about Octavia?”

A shrug, “she’ll be fine with Rae. Come on, sugar. Don’t leave me hanging.” 

Plump lips move to press against the cool cheek of the blonde while leather clad arms wrap around the curvy waist. Unconsciously, a pale hand moves to cup the back of Lexa’s neck to pull her closer. This is when light, affectionate emerald eyes flicker up to see the silhouette of a man leaning against the wall, watching the duo; immediately, the hold around Clarke waist tightens as the gaze hardens and face transforms into a stoic expression. Keeping her gaze trained on the unknown figure, Lexa tilts her head to place an open-mouthed kiss against the blonde’s neck, moving up to the girl’s ear.

“Hey doll,” she whispers, softly. 

“Mhm.”

Lexa continues quietly, “I don’t want you to be alarmed, but there is someone watching us.” After those words left plump lips, the brunette can feel the girl stiffen up quickly as the grip on her neck tightens. 

“Relax,” she whispers once more. “I’ll take care of it. Just stay calm and act normal.” 

A breathless okay comes from the other girl. Lips move back to their original position against the slim neck and latches onto the pulse point. Sucking at it softly, discreetly, a tan hand moves to the back of her pocket to pull out a black handle. Clarke’s head falls back slightly while the thumb connects with a silver button causing the sharp blade to pop out. 

“Can I fucking help you?” Lexa slightly shouts with a gruff voice, after pulling away. 

The silhouette begins to move forward, “looks like someone isn’t from around here.”

A man with a large scar running from the beginning of his hairline down the side of his face appears in the glow of the lamppost. Cut up jeans, word out boots, a dirty white shirt, the man runs a hand through his greasy long hair. Bloodshot, grey eyes flicker to stare at Clarke’s backside while a predatory grin stretches across his lips; the hand clutching the knife tightens. 

“You know,” he sneers, “these streets aren’t too kind to foreigners.”

Lexa, keeping most of her face hidden, waiting for the right moment. 

“You may walk in here but, you leave in a body bag.” 

As he moves closer, the bartender swiftly moves from behind Clarke and towards the man, pushing the blonde away from his reach. Her hand reaching out to grasp his worn old shirt as she shoves him back into the pole. With a grunt, his back connects with the metal cylinder. Scuffling of shoes fills the night as Lexa’s hand, the one with the knife, moves up to press the blade against a scruffy Adams apple. 

“Good thing she is with me then,” she growls out. 

In a blink of an eye, Lexa yanks the man off the pole before the heel of the black boot lifts from the ground before jamming itself into the back of his kneecaps. Falling to his knees, a tan hand grasps the scruffy chin while pressing the blade back against his neck.

“You stay the hell away from her, you got it? I swear to god, I won’t be so merciful next time Roan.” 

Grunting, the man replies through gritted teeth, “you got it Commander.” 

Without another word, the girl releases him as a long leg lifts; thrusting the black book into his back, she watches as he goes flying to the ground, arms out in front. “And tell your friends.” Sliding the knife back into the slit of the handle, Lexa, shoulders back and a stony expression, strolls back over to the gaping blonde. Blue eyes, slightly wide, gawk at the brunette who simply grasps her hand before guiding her away. 

“Okay, despite how terrifying that was, I’d be lying if I didn’t say how hot that was.” Clarke, with lustful, yet dazed eyes, comments as she allowed the brunette to practically drag her down. Lexa scoffs before she feels the blonde attempt to stop her. 

“Lex,” 

“It’s not safe around here, Clarke. You don’t get it, none of your people do. You can walk down the streets of your perfectly manicured neighborhood without a care in the world, whistling and waving at the neighbors like you are best friends. I don’t have that goddamn luxury.” Lexa snaps angrily. 

Blue eyes continue at the ranting brunette with a soft expression, almost of understanding. Lexa throws her hands up in the arm before settling them on top of her head and emerald eyes glance up towards the sky to will any unshed tears to vanish. The pounding of an erratic beat against her ribcage continues to throb in her temples; after a moment, with an exasperated sigh, arms fall to her side, shoulders droop, and her gaze drops to the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” Lexa lets out a shaky breath. “I should not have snapped at you like that.” 

Clarke’s hand lays against the toned abdomen before sliding to grasp the girl’s hip. “I get it okay. This place definitely lives up to its reputation; I’m sorry if I was being insensitive.”

Emerald eyes flicker up to see a concerned expression etched on the blonde’s face with her furrowed brows and slightly pursued lips. Lexa swallows the grapefruit size balls wedged in her throat before moving to wrap her arm around the girl’s shoulders. 

“Come on,” she mutters quietly. “This way.” 

Quietly, the duo continues to walk along the sidewalk littered with trash as women with rip fishnets, smudge makeup, and disheveled hair roam the streets, questioning every passerby for a good time. Down a few alleyways, crystal blue eyes observe people, clothes tattered, huddled around a metallic garbage can that flickers with a roaring fire, hoping to chase the chill in their bones. An eye opener for the blonde, with each step, more abandoned buildings seem to materialize from thin air. With black smiley faces, red bold letters of various gang tags, these empty places make the whole town seem colder, hollower. 

“We’re almost there.” 

Lexa lets her arm slip from the blonde’s shoulders, trail down her arm, and interlock their fingers; with a tug, she guides the artist down another street. A group of kids were in the middle of the street, playing stickball. 

“Come on.”

Pulling Clarke to her left, a school appears in the distance. With chain linked fences and possibly barb wire on top, this building was the only place that had a well-manicured, green lawn. It’s pristine white coat of paint could shine through any darkness; seemingly, a newly renovated school whose property was most likely private. Yet, it seems that Lexa had other plans. 

“Where are we?”

Emerald eyes glance over to see Clarke staring curiously at the building, “you don’t recognize it?”

“No, why?”

“Because like this town, your people own this building.” Lexa replies with much disdain. “As you can see, the school has been freshly renovated.” 

Clarke eyes the girl curiously as she walks over to the side of the chain linked fence; tan hands grasps at the edge before yanking up. The metal slowly curls as hole appears in the side as Lexa continues to pull it back. 

“Lexa! Are you crazy?” 

Pale hands rush to grab at the leather clad shoulder as the brunette chuckles before releasing the metal, “don’t worry doll, we’ll be fine. Come on.”

“Lexa, we can’t go in there.” Clarke begins with slight fear, “we could get in trouble.” 

Lexa lets out another hearty laugh as she ducks down to pass through the fence, “Clarke, look around, no one is here. I want to show you something.”

“Lexa.”

Already on the other side, Lexa crouches to look up towards the blonde with a grin, “don’t you trust me?”

Swallowing thickly, Clarke lets out a shaky sigh when she sees the tan hand extend through the broken fence, palm up. A small smile plays at the brunette’s lips as pleading emerald eyes gaze over towards blue hues, “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

Biting her lip, crystal blues flicker back and forth between the open hand and the beautiful green eyes that seem to cast a spell of enchantment on her. Without another word, hastily, legs cross the distance, a pale hand grasps the tan one and Clarke ducks under to the other side. Standing up straight, never letting go, the blonde stares at Lexa who seems to gaze back with affection and a hint of amusement. 

“Being bad feels good eh?” 

Clarke snorts, playfully shoves the brunette before heading towards the building; a brief glance over her shoulder, she calls out. “Aren’t you coming?” 

A small grin breaks out on Lexa’s face as long legs surge forward into a sprint as the blonde takes off. Giggling, Clarke runs across the green grass towards the front of the building. It’s white coat gleams even more as the bold, navy blue letters of POLIS HIGH blare into the night. Lexa catches up to grab the girl’s arm and tug her towards the side of the building. 

“Did you graduate here?” 

Lexa clicks her tongue as they approach a window, “yep, before the new paint coat and the obvious landscapers. But, apparently, someone decided not to fix certain parts of the building.”

The brunette steers the blonde towards a window before moving to shimmy it open. With a slight squeak, the glass catches, another shimmy, a squeak, another catch, a shimmy, and it swings open. 

“Lexa. We are breaking into a school?!” 

She grins as her hands grasp the blonde’s hips. Tugging her closer to the window, plump lips move to whisper in the blonde’s ear. “Come on, hop up.” 

After both stumble in, Lexa closes the window shut and leads the girl down the eerily quiet and empty corridors. Inside, the building remains a dump with it’s chipped, rusted lockers that hang off the edges of broken hinges. Water stains litter the ceilings as a musty smell of mildew fills the corridors. Wordlessly, Clarke allows Lexa to pull her up several slight of stairs until they reach the top of the building where the words DO NOT ENTER can be found. After pushing through that door, Clarke finds herself standing on the roof of the very large building. 

“Anya, Raven, Lincoln and I do this all the time.” Lexa explains, leading her over to the side of the building. “Granted, we usually have a shit load of alcohol and golf balls to hit over the side, I like to come up here to think a lot. It has such a great view.” 

Indeed, it did. Seemingly, the school was practically the tallest in the town, which meant one could look out and see the whole city, including parts of Arkadia. Thousands of tiny buildings, light up by a soft glow of light, sat in the far distance; if you look up, one could find millions of stars littering the clear, night sky. Breathtaking. 

“See, even in the shittiest places, you can still find something so beautiful.” Lexa whispers from behind the blonde. Admiringly, blues eyes stare up at the starry sky as the brunette move to wrap her arms around the girl’s waist. Clarke finds herself leaning back into the warm embrace as she surveys the area. 

“When I was a kid, Anya and I would come up here every Friday night to look up at the stars and just talk about everything. How I wanted to be able to grow up and leave this place far behind. How she wanted to be a ninja.” Lexa smiles at the fond memory as blue eyes glance over to look at her. Scanning the side profile of a strong jaw, high cheek bones, and those beautiful emerald eyes that seem to glow.

“We wanted to leave and never look back.”

A pale hand reaches up to touch a cool cheek, “what happened?”

“Reality,” Lexa says with a humorless chuckle. “You know, as a kid, we take a lot of stuff for granted. Even as teenagers, we don’t know how good we have it until we are halfway through our 20’s barely scrapping by.”

Clarke’s head leans back further to stare at the brunette who continues. “We always wish to be older. One day, you wake up, you are twenty five, and not sure how the time escaped you; then, we end up spend our time wishing to go back to our childhoods.” 

“Do you wish that?” 

Lexa looks over, “wish what?”

“That you could go back in time, re-do everything?” 

Lexa has a faint smile of regret, “yes. I’d do things a hell of a lot different. I’d tell that dumbass teenager, who wore far too much black eyeliner while trying way too hard to not fit in, to put the bottle down, stop stealing, stop fighting, and pay attention to the world around you. I’d tell her to stop screaming at her mother, pushing people away, and shutting out the world. Because one day, those people, her mother, will be gone and she would have missed the time you could have spent with them.”

A brief silence engulfs both as blue hues observe the tightly clenched jaw that grinds side to side ever so often. 

“I’d like to tell the teenager, who cared far too much about what everyone thought and made every attempt to people please, to follow her heart and ignore those around her,” Clarke states softly.

Lexa glances back over as her arms tighten around the girl, “like tonight?”

Clarke smiles widely, “exactly like tonight.”

Plump lips quirk into a small smile before pressing against the blonde’s. A pale hand moves to cup the strong jaw as their lips move against one another in a slow languid kiss; Clarke’s head falling back slightly to deepen the kiss before pulling back with a small grin. 

“I think teenage Lexa would have been good for teenage Clarke.” 

Without another word, Lexa closes the space between them once more.   
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>  
After remaining on the roof for a little while longer, Lexa and Clarke make their way across the green grass of the entrance of the high school. Hands intertwined, the bartender uses her free hands to bring the cigarette to her lips. 

“What you said before, about fighting, did you get into a lot of them?” 

Lexa snorts after exhaling, “you could say that. I was an angry kid, doll. I did a lot of stupid shit.”

“Like?” 

Playful emerald eyes glance over, “like wouldn’t you like to know.” 

“Which is why I’m asking sugar,” Clarke retorts teasingly. 

Lexa stops for a minute, “I like the way you look at me.”

“What?”

“I like the way you look at me. Like I am a future full of endless possibilities. Unblemished, untainted, and untarnished.” 

“I know, sugar.” Clarke tugs on the tie with a playful smirk, “I’m staring at you right now.”

Lexa rolls her eyes, “I mean, you look at me, the real me. I like it this way.”

“So?”

A click of her tongue, “so, I don’t want you to stop looking me like that. I know when I tell you, the twinkle in your eye, the lightness will fade. I don’t want that. Not tonight at least.”

Lexa pulls Clarke closer by the hips as pale hands slide up arms to grasp at the collar of the leather jacket. “Promise me something,” Clarke starts.

“Anything.” 

Blue hues lock with emerald ones, “promise me, if you wake up tomorrow morning and I’m still there, you trust me enough to let me show you how your past does not define who you are in the present or future.” 

“Clar-.” 

She interrupts, “Lexa, it’s scary. I get it. Just promise me.”

A brief pause transpires before the brunette lets out a soft sigh. “Promise.” 

With a serious expression, Clarke nods and moves to wrap her arms around Lexa’s waist for a hug. Turning her head, the blonde pushes her forehead against the slim neck as a small pressure of Lexa’s chin on top of her hair causes her to smile. A peaceful moment falls upon the girls as they embrace; however, the screeching a tires and the slamming of a door causes the hairs on the back of Lexa’s neck to stand up. Her spine snapping straight, alarmingly, as rubber soles slapping against the cement breaks the silence of the night. 

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING HERE?! THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY!”

“Shit,” a mutter escapes plump lips as she break the embrace to glance back. In the distance, a man is running full speed, charging towards them. Wincing, brown eyes stare into the blaring flood light that is illuminating their bodies. I can’t go back to jail.

“NONE OF YOU MOVE!” 

In her arms, Clarke’s body stiffens, finally realizing the situation; pulling away, blue eyes, squint towards the blaring light, the man quickly approaching. An icy chill runs down her spine as tan hands move to dig into her hips, pushing her in the opposite direction; Snapping out of her trance, Lexa glances over to notice blue eyes staring up with fear, “Clarke, go to the fence. Run.”

As Lexa moves towards the man, a hand grabs her elbow.

“No, I’m not leaving you.” 

The sounds of rubber soles slapping against the pavement and the jingling of keys alerts the brunette that the rent-a-cop is headed straight towards them. Immediately, cupping the girl’s face, emerald eyes scan the slightly frighten, yet determined features of Clarke as thumbs rub back and forth against red cheeks to sooth the shaken girl.

“HEY!” “DON’T MOVE!”

Fuck that. As long legs begin to move, a tan hand intertwines with a trembling pale one. “Come on.” Pulling Clarke, long legs sprint across the empty parking lot. Clarke, slightly, lagging the brunette keeps a firm hold on the calloused hand. Panting, Lexa’s eyes hone in on the corner of the fence; however, realizing the distance, makes a quick decision. Shit. Instead they run towards the closest area of the fence. Muscles clench, tighten and cramp as the brunette kicks her legs, willing them to run faster. Throwing a quick glance back, emerald eyes widen slightly to see the car, now, following them. 

“Shit.”

Clarke’s grip tightens as she keeps up with the taller girl. “We are so screwed.”

Determined emerald eyes, survey the area as the two girls run across the cement parking lot. From behind, the blaring flood light causes shadows in front of them. Cutting over the grass, Lexa guides Clarke towards the end towards the gate. Letting go of the blonde, Lexa cups her hands before gesturing to the blonde, “put your foot here, I’ll lift you.”

“This is a very bad idea,” Clarke pants, placing her hands on the strong shoulders. Once the right foot is place, the brunette straightens her bent knees before thrusting the blonde up with as much strength as she could muster. Emerald eyes flicker to see the car pull up to the sidewalk before the officer jumps out and slide across the hood of the car. As soon as Lexa feels the weight lift off, tan hands at once reach out to grab the highest spot towards the top of the chain link fence. 

With a yank, the brunette pushes the toe of the boots into the holes as she climbs up. Panting, Lexa barely hears and registers the shouts of the blonde telling her to hurry. At the top, balancing on one arm, the brunette swings both legs over; but, with her boot catching against the broken wired fence, losing her footing, the forearm scraps against the protruding metal of the gaping hole in the fence. Of course. I couldn’t have seen the hole before climbing. Back slamming against the ground, Lexa lets out a grunt, momentarily, unmoving. Pale hands grab at her good arm to help the taller girl stand, “we gotta go, Lex.” 

Stumbling slightly, in a daze, hands fumble to interlock as two pairs of legs continue to pump as fast as they can. Throwing a glance back, the bartender sees the cop slam into the fence with frustration before turning to run back to his car. Immediately, the screeching of tires sends another rush of adrenaline coursing through the girl’s veins. Loud blaring of sirens from behind interrupts the quietness of the streets as reds, blues, and whites flicker along the brick walls. Gripping the girl’s hand, “this way.”

The slapping of rubber against the cement interrupt the stillness of the night as the two round the corner as the siren screams behind them. “Over here,” Clarke shouts, pulling Lexa to the side. Quickly, ducking behind an alley, both girls bend over to place her hands on her knees. Breathing heavily, emerald eyes watch a drop of blood hit her boot. A large gash from the middle of her forearm to a tan palm is dripping crimson. Damn it. From her peripherals, the brunette sees the loud light illuminating the dark streets once more. Quickly, emerald eyes scan the expanse of the alleyway to notice the lonely dumpster in the back; hastily, Lexa pulls Clarke towards it before ducking, narrowly missing the flood light of the cop. Lexa holds her breath as the light shines brightly down the narrow corridor. The grip on Clarke’s hand tightens, silently praying the car keeps moving. It isn’t until the darkness envelops them once more that Lexa exhales. Leaning her head back to hit the metal, emerald eyes close in relief. This is so not how I expected my night to go. 

“Your arm.”

Eyes open to glance down at the wound then back at the blonde. “You ok?”

“I should be asking you that,” Clarke mutters, gingerly taking the arm to inspect.

A click of her tongue, “it’s just a scratch.” 

“A scratch that looks like you took on a lion.”

With eyes closed, Lexa feels a warm sensation pressing against her jaw as the blonde kisses her softly. Once again, another tickles her chin. Emerald eyes open as Lexa lifts her head from the metal to lock with blue hues. Smiling, a pale hand slips through the chestnut hair at the base of the brunette’s hair. Smirking, Lexa hears herself ask. “Does being wild get you hot and bothered, Ms. Griffin?” 

“Oh, you have no idea.”

A black spandex clad thigh swings over outstretched legs before pale hands grip the skinny tie. With her back against the dumpster, tan hands slide against the blonde’s inner thighs up to her hips. Surging forward, their mouths slam against one another. Invading her senses is the sweet smell of Clarke’s perfume as hands move from hips up to her back then cup her ass; a moan escapes the blonde’s lip as strong hands pulls the girl’s body deeper into her. 

Hello, let me out of your pocket. 

Breaking the kiss, lust filled eyes watch Clarke bite her lip as she fishes out the cell phone. Not breaking eye contact, Lexa leans her back against the cold metal once again. 

“Yeh?” 

A breathy response causes the brunette’s hips to jut up slightly for friction. Smirking, a pale hand moves to press against tight abdominals to halt the girl’s movements. 

“Bellamey, for fuck sakes, stop calling me.” 

The husky voice as the brunette melting into a pool of sexual desire. A gorgeous blonde, perched upon her lap, rutting into her with such skill that has Lexa throbbing deep into her bones in a dank alleyway littered with garbage, against a dumpster. Lexa should feel disgusted. She really should. A girl like Clarke should be worshipped under the billions of stars with fluffy pillows, hundreds of candles and silk sheets, not on the grimy, filthy floor down a dank alleyway. 

“Do not talk about her like that,” Clarke snaps angrily before pausing. “No, do not tell my mother where I am. Fuck, stop being such a brat.” 

Lexa rolls her eyes before taking the phone once again and ending the call. Clarke smirks as she watches the brunette, all huffy, fidgets to shut the damn phone down.

“There, Bellamey will not be calling again.”

Grinning, the blonde leans in for another heated kiss. Yet, Lexa finds herself turning her face to give Clarke her cheek. Faltering, a frown graces the blonde’s lips. “What’s wrong?”

A soft laugh, “do you really want the first time we do this to be here?” A tan hand gestures around, “I’m pretty sure strands of Cholera can be found on the floor my ass is touching.” 

Pouting for a few, Clarke eventually drops her head against the strong shoulder. 

“You’re right.”

“Always am, doll face.” 

Clarke kisses her chin. “Come on, sugar. Show me how to get back to Grounders.” 

Intertwining their hands, the sounds of boots scuffing the ground echo throughout the alley. At the end, Lexa stops Clarke from walking out. Carefully, peering around the corner to see the emptiness, the brunette gives a nod to Clarke before they start to walk down the trash-littered sidewalk. Every so often, Lexa throws glances over her shoulder, prepared to take off any minute. 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>  
“Lincoln, do you have a first aid kit?”

A medium size box, or a white plastic briefcase, is placed in front of the duo. “Here Clarke.”

“Thanks.”

Quickly, Clarke gets to work. Opening the container to find various sized bandages, wraps, antiseptics, and gloves. “Maybe we should go into the bathroom. I need to wash this properly to avoid an infection.”

Lexa reminds, “it’s just a scratch.”

“Lexa.”

“Clarke.”

A firmer, “Lexa.”

With an eye roll, the brunette downs the drink then stands up; nodding towards the back, Lexa grabs the first aid kit and walks off with Clarke in tow. Moving to the employees only bathroom, once inside, the blonde pushes the grumpy brunette towards the sink. 

“Why was Bellamey so upset on the phone earlier?” Lexa questions as the girl gently moves her arm under the water; red, black, and brown swirls around the white porcelain as it disappears into the silver drain holes. 

The question catches the blonde off guard. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Clarke.”

“Lexa.”

A huff, “answer the question Clarke.” 

The blonde says with a hint of annoyance. “He’s upset I stayed with you despite only knowing you for a couple of hours.” 

“Oh.”

“He also thinks you’re reckless,” Clarke continues, shutting off the water. “I mean, that’s me putting it nicely anyway.” 

A soft chuckle, “and what do you think?”

“I think you are sweet,” Clarke replies, pushing her to sit on the toilet. Kneeling down, the blonde pulls out some antiseptic cream. “But, I also think you have been dealt a shitty hand and all your doing is making the best out of the situation you have been given.” 

A small hiss escapes plump lips. Concerned blue eyes glance up, “sorry, I’m trying to be as gentle as possible.” 

“It’s fine.” 

Rubbing the cream in, the blonde states, “you are a good person Lexa.”

A scoff, “you barely know me, Clarke.”

Gloved hands move to grab a gauze, “I don’t need to know everything to see how much of a caring person you are.” Placing the white cloth against the wound, “don’t tell her, but I kind of have a thing for this beautiful brunette behind the stony expression and guarded eyes.”

Remaining quiet, emerald eyes scan the features of the blonde, from the dip of her nose to the dip in her chin. Clarke moves to wrap the bandage around the gauze, “I think you need to cut yourself some slack, Lexa. You are doing the best you can.” 

Finishing up, blue hues look up to see emerald eyes shining with unshed tears. Moving closer, Clarke continues to keel between the open legs of the brunette. “Hey, hey,” after shedding the gloves, pale hands cup the red cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Tilting her head back, Lexa blinks rapidly while releasing a shaky breath. “Don’t be, it’s just, I, I don’t know.” 

Looking back down, the brunette leans forward to capture the blonde’s lips. A soft, languid kiss leaves Lexa trembling inside with a fury of mixed emotions. “I didn’t expect you to say that.” Tilting, slightly to the left, Lexa kisses the blonde once more. A soft sigh echoes in the stillness of the bathroom as Clarke nips at the plump bottom lip. Pulling back, the bartender licks her lips before kissing the tip of the blonde’s nose. 

“We should probably get out there before Anya breaks the door down.” 

Lexa chuckles lowly, replying, “she probably thinks we are fucking right now.” 

“Don’t tease me, sugar.” 

A smirk graces Lexa’s lips as Clarke stands up to throw away the bandages. Stalking closer, tan hands grab the blonde’s hips from behind and yanking the unsuspecting body back. Clarke, stumbling back, stares through the mirror at the brunette whose teeth, playfully, nip at the side of her neck. Emerald eyes lock with blue through the glass, smirking, tan hands, sensually, slide up to cup breasts. A gasp falls from pink lips while thumbs brush against the cloth covered nipples. “Hm, it seems you like it when I tease you though, doll face.”

A triumphant smirk widens when Clarke’s eyes flutter close and her ass pushes back into the bartender. Tan hands begin massaging as Lexa propels the girl forwards; shooting out, pale hands tightly grasp when the edge of the porcelain sink presses against her pubic bone. Grinding lightly into the blonde’s ass, the bartender can’t help the smug smirk appearing when Clarke moans lightly. 

“You like that?”

Blonde hair bounces with yes of her head shake. Lexa, trying not to snicker, pulls away completely before striding over to the door. “Come on, Clarke.” 

Blue eyes open to glare at playful emeralds. “Are you fucking serious?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Lexa replies with a serious look. 

Frustrated, Clarke opens the door before shoving the taller girl out. “Asshole.” As Lexa fumbles, a loud chorus of laughter rumbles deep within her body. The blonde, grumpily, makes her way towards the swinging doors. 

“Aw don’t be mad,” Lexa shouts after her, still laughing. Long legs speed walks over before the bandaged arm swings out to curl around the curvy waist. Pushing up against the sexually frustrated Clarke, the brunette kisses her cheek while the blonde pouts slightly. Walking, smashed together, Lexa continues to whisper in Clarke’s ear to get the girl to smile. Fighting it off by biting her lip, Clarke allows the tan arms to squeeze her in a hug. Clinging onto one another, Lexa behind Clarke, the giggling pair stumble through the swinging doors into the bar. The brunette kisses the girl’s cheek while Clarke, grinning, tries to wrestle free; but, it isn’t until a loud yell that bursts the two out of their blissful bubble. 

“What the fuck did you just say ya fucking posh bastard?” 

Alarmingly, green eyes glance over to see a group of Grounders huddled around Gustus who seems to be confronting someone; Anya and Lincoln stand between the two to prevent a fight from breaking out. 

“Gus, let it go man,” Lincoln warns.

Anya continues, “you know these silver spoon mother fuckers will call the cops.”

“I don’t give a fuck. This fool thinks he can come into our bar and talk shit about Lexa, accusing her of fucking kidnapping.” 

Releasing the blonde, Lexa brushes past Clarke and graps her hand along the way. Trailing behind quietly, the duo make their way over as the group of people part for her. 

“Heda,” one shouts. “Take care of these outsiders, will you?” 

With a neutral expression, Lexa places a hand on the tall, broad shoulder. “Gustus.” 

As soon as the man moves to look at her, Lexa’s eyes land on the black, sleek-backed hair of a man who is wearing an expensive suit. Before the brunette can say anything, Clarke’s voice flood her ears from behind. 

“Bellamey?” 

 

A/N: So, should Lexa kick his ass or not? I'm not sure either.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment if you'd like, I'd greatly appreciate it.  
> If not, you could hit the kudos button.  
> Just saying....  
> Thanks for reading.


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